Isn't Someone Missing Me?
by Sanqhian
Summary: Danny experiences a life changing event. And before anyone knows it, Danny isn't Danny anymore. [slash]
1. Going Under

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter One: Going Under**

"That's one big boat," Danny said as he pulled his kit from the back of the Denali.

"That's not a boat, it's a yacht," responded Flack, flashing Danny a smirk. "The home away from home for those who can afford it. I hear that women love them. A lot of big time celebrities have parties on their yachts."

"Good for them," Danny said walking toward the white yacht. Painted on the side in blue letters were the words _Sea Mermaid._ "I'm pretty sure the owner of this chunk of money didn't get the party he was expecting. You want to explain the call to me? Mac just told me to meet you here."

Flack pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. "The yacht is registered to a Mr. Iwin. Single, makes his money on the stock market, lucky bastard. There was a party held here last night, for what I'm still trying to find out. His maid came by to check on things when he didn't return home. She found him dead in the bedroom. From what I understand, it isn't a pretty sight."

"Where is everyone else?" asked Danny, looking around the silent harbor. The parking lot was empty and there weren't any other people around. It was like they were in a bubble or something, isolated from the world. The sky above threatened rain but surely that wouldn't have kept everyone away.

"There were officers posted to keep an eye on the crime scene. But I got a call when I was five minutes away," explained Flack. "Something about a bank robbery in action. The officers here were closer than anyone else, so I gave them the go ahead to leave."

Danny frowned. "Are you sure the boat- excuse me, yacht, is still secured?"

Flack held out his arms, surveying the empty parking lot and docks. "There's nobody here. You even said so yourself. It's just the two of us, Danny-boy."

"Then lead the way," Danny sighed.

Flack stepped onto the yacht, the motion of the water making it sway ever so slightly. He wanted to get the hell off the thing before the rain started to fall. The weatherman had called for rain and thunderstorms. His mother lectured him about staying away from open water during a thunderstorm. Hopefully Danny wouldn't take too long collecting his evidence. Glancing back to make sure the CSI was following him, he lead him toward the door to the cabin below. The city was muffled by a fog that was rolling in, or out, sometimes it was hard to tell whether or not it was coming or going. Taking the polished wooden steps they descended into the cabin.

"The bedroom is in there," Flack said, pointing toward a partially closed door.

Danny gave him a look. "What, you afraid to see what lies behind that door?"

Shaking his head Flack responded, "Sorry, man, I just ate lunch and I'm not really in the mood to have a repeat. Something tells me that it won't taste as good coming back up as it did going down."

"Well guess what?" Danny smiled. "You have to go. You have to make sure the room is secure before you just leave me alone. Rules are rules."

"Rules are meant to be broken," protested Flack, eyeing the room from the safe distance.

Danny shrugged. "Come on, big guy. Don't make me tell the others."

Letting out a sigh Flack lead the way to the bedroom. With his gun drawn he nudged the door open all the way and felt the bile rising in his throat. The once eggshell white walls were now spattered with the dark red of drying blood. It was on the floor, the bed, the ceiling, and every piece of furniture in the place.

"Damn," Danny muttered. "Someone went a touch overboard. This is the worst overkill I've ever seen. I don't even know where to start."

"How about some pictures?" suggested Flack, his voice sounding hollow. He turned his back on the scene, taking deep breathes to settle his stomach. Even with all the years of work he hadn't been ready for that. It was like walking onto the set of a horror movie. There was so much blood, so much…he shuddered, not wanting to think about it. He heard the click of the camera as Danny began taking photos. The sound of footsteps on the deck drew his attention.

"Anyone supposed to be meeting us here?" asked Danny, letting his eyes drift toward the ceiling as though he could see through it and identify the person above.

Flack shook his head. "No, they should be pretty busy with that bank robbery." He turned to Danny. "I'm going to go up and take a look around. Maybe someone thought it would be fun to traipse around your crime scene."

"Don't leave me alone for too long," Danny said after him, watching the detective, his best friend, walking up the stairs to the deck.

He couldn't shake this feeling of doom, this feeling that something was off. He'd already lost Aidan. He wasn't going to lose Flack too. Good friends were hard to come by in his line of work. People were either too fascinated in the murders, or too grossed out by them. They never stuck around for long. He'd come to accept that. There was nothing wrong with the people he worked with, and they were his friends. They understood one another. Except for the new girl. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of her.

Feeling anxious he checked his watch. Five minutes had passed. He chewed on his bottom lip trying to decide what to do. If he went up above to check on Flack and found him to be okay the detective would pick on him, calling him paranoid. But what if Flack needed help? Steeling his spine, his stride full of purpose, Danny found himself climbing the stairs to the deck before it even fully registered. He stepped onto the deck, into a light drizzle. The distant sound of thunder reached his ears. The storm wasn't that far off.

"Flack?" he called. There was no response. He walked around, stopping to check the parking lot, thinking that maybe Flack had caught whoever it was and was waiting for a squad car to pick the perp up. But the parking lot was empty save for their two cars. He frowned. "Flack?"

He didn't hear the footsteps behind him in time to react. Someone reached out to him, wrapping their arms around his waste and locking him in a bear hug. He lashed out, trying to free himself from the grip. With a swift kick he caught his attacker in the shin. The man cursed and released his hold, allowing Danny to turn around and get a good look at the man that clearly wasn't Flack. The man drove a fist into Danny's stomach, driving the air from his body, causing him to slump over. He went for his gun, the only lifeline he was going to have, but the holster was empty.

The black revolver lay on the deck a few feet away, dislodged during the fight. A fight that Danny felt himself losing. Finally regaining some air he brought up his knee and nailed his opponent right in the groin. The other man didn't even flinch. That wasn't natural. Then an awful thought crossed Danny's mind; what if this guy had done something with Flack? That would explain his disappearance and the lack of help Danny so desperately needed. Ducking another punch he thought he heard the distant sound of sirens. It was probably his sub-conscious taking affect, giving him false hope when there wasn't any hope. The man he fought with was massive, built like a tank. Danny had no hopes of winning, even with his police training.

Still, he had to get some sort of foothold. He had to find some weakness in his opponent, anything that would shift the odds in his favor. The wail of a siren pierced the silence of the harbor and Danny knew then that help was indeed on the way. But they wouldn't be in time. Distracted by a movement out of the corner of his eye he didn't see the fist heading straight for him. It connected with the side of his temple, snapping his head back. A quick follow-up nailed him in the stomach, once again driving the air from his body, and making him stumble backward. He felt the railing of the boat pressing against his back.

"Danny," someone shouted his name as a pair of massive hands pushed him over the side of the yacht. He felt the ground give way as he fell, the air rushing passed his body. The force of the water hit him and he felt the back of his body bruising on impact. Water never made for a soft landing. Looking up he saw Flack and Mac wrestling with the attacker while Stella looked over board, yelling something. Her mouth was moving but he couldn't hear what she was saying. His body ached from the pressure of the water, his mind foggy from the blow to his head, his lungs burning for oxygen. He tried to swim to the surface but his limps just wouldn't cooperate. The farther he sank the more he began to let go. They'd never get a dive team out in time to save him. They'd have to lift his lifeless body from the watery depths.

He felt his heart thumping against his ribcage, his foggy mind screamed for him to take a breath, to breathe in the life saving oxygen but he couldn't unless he got to the surface and that wasn't going to happen. The cold began to wrap him in a tight blanket, pressing down on his body. He thought he heard the sound of splashing water as someone dove in to get him but it was probably just the thunderous sound of the water in his ears. And that wasn't a hand grasping his to pull him to the surface, it was trash that someone had thrown into the water. His brain got the message across to his heart and it began to slow its pace, his body giving into the ending that had been thrown its way. At least he'd black out before dying. And with that last thought he was gone…


	2. Bring Me To Life

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Two: Bring Me To Life**

Flack leaned over the deck, Stella beside him. A pair of officers had taken hold of the attacker and were currently escorting him off the yacht. The two CSI's were watching the water. Flack tried desperately not to panic. But that was a hard thing to do when his best friend was slowly dying, drowning as he sunk further into the murky water. Mac had thrown off his coat, and handed a few personal things to Stella before diving off the side of the boat to save Danny. It had taken the other two by complete surprise.

"What's going on?" Hawks yelled as he ran toward them. Lindsay on his heels. Both of them had that freaked look in their eyes. of course, a report had gone out about an officer down. They'd all be checking up on each other, to make sure that each one was okay. Would Danny be okay?

"Danny…" Stella said, not sure exactly what to say. How could she explain to them what had happened?

"Some punk ass hit him on the head and he fell overboard," remarked Flack, putting it bluntly. "Mac dove in after him, but they've both been gone for so long. I'm thinking I might have to go in after them."

Lindsay grabbed a hold of Hawks' hand and lower arm, tears appearing in her eyes. She hadn't been a member of the team for long but already she was like family to them, and vice versa. Flack new that Danny was uncomfortable around her. Probably because she had taken Aidan's place and Aidan had been his best friend. Her death had been particularly hard on the young CSI. Flack didn't think he would pull through. Danny was good at surprising people, though. He bounced back with a vengeance. He even seemed to do okay after his brother' nearly died. Now it looked like he was going to be the one to die. Unless…

Bubbles began to appear on the surface of the water, giving all four of them some renewed hope. The scream of sirens marked the entrance of an ambulance as it pulled into the parking lot; which was now filled with squad cars and other emergency vehicles, lights dancing. Mac broke through the surface, gasping for air. He held tightly to an unconscious Danny. Tiredly he moved toward the shore, where there came another splash. One of the officers was standing nearly waste deep in the nasty water. With his help Mac was able to get Danny on shore, where the paramedics took over. At first it looked like everything was going to be okay.

Then they all heard the words they dreaded. "There's no pulse. We're going to lose him."

They watched as the paramedics ripped open Danny's shirt, and Flack began to wonder if it was such a good idea to use a defibrillator on a soaking wet person. The first shock did nothing. It was the same with the second one. Flack, now standing only a few feet away with the others, closed his eyes and sent up a little prayer. He wouldn't be able to deal if Danny died. The third shock got a sigh of relief from the paramedics.

"There's a pulse. It's weak and I'm not sure if it'll last. We need to get him to the hospital."

There was a collective sigh amongst the CSI's. Flack gave them each a moment's glance. Lindsay was hanging onto Hawks like he was a life preserver. Was there something going on between the two of them? Something he hadn't caught before? Stella stood beside Mac, one hand holding his, the other playing with a charm on her necklace. Probably a cross. The paramedics were placing Danny on a stretcher when his breathing became irregular. Both EMT's dropped their bags.

"He's going into shock. He's choking," one of them said to the other. "See if you can feed a tube down his throat before it closes all the way." The second paramedic tried, only to shake his head in failure. "Fine, we're going to have to cut him. I'm not losing him."

Lindsay looked away, as did Stella, when the lead paramedic cut an opening in the base of Danny's throat. Flack couldn't believe that the day had gone so wrong. That one moment he was hanging out with his best friend and the next he was watching his friend fight to stay alive. If only he had never gone up on the deck. None of this would have happened. The attacker would have left, or he would have surprised the both of them. Two to one had better odds. He felt like kicking himself, like yelling out to the heavens up above to let Danny live, to take him instead. As the paramedics wheeled the stretcher toward the ambulance Flack stepped forward.

"Is it okay if I ride with him, Mac?" he asked his voice sounding hollow and far away, even to him.

"Keep us posted," came the reply.

"I will," Flack said, turning to catch-up with the ambulance before it left. He just couldn't let Danny go. Not now. Not ever. But if it was his time, then he was going to die with a friend by his side. No one deserved to die alone.

Mac watched him as he left. He looked beaten, nothing like kicking a man when he's down, thought Mac. The year had been tough on everyone and they all need to take long vacations. The death of Aidan. Then nearly losing Flack because some guy was upset that he couldn't be in the Military. Stella and the problems with her boyfriend. Danny's year had been even worse. Getting stuck in that safe room, his brother ending up in the hospital, and now this; would he manage to hang on? They say that things get worse before they get better. Mac hoped that it wouldn't get any worse, it was bad enough, and now things had to get better.


	3. Everybody's Fool

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Three: Everybody's Fool**

He felt the water around him, cold and heavy. The current pulled at him, tugged at his very soul. He couldn't remember why he was here, or even how he had come to be here. He remembered something about a boat, something about a crime scene. There was blood all over the place. But who did it belong to? Had it been his blood? There was a flash of a gun. His service weapon. It wasn't there when he needed it. The world around him got darker the further he sank. He understood now. He fully comprehended what was going on. He was dying, the water being his final end. Was the blood his? Was it swirling around, dancing in the waves, leaving a trail to his body? A body that sunk deeper and deeper.

There came another flash, dry land, muffled voices. He shivered, cold and wet, dragged from the watery depths. By who? He struggled to open his eyes. He desperately wanted to go back. Back in time to before, before he forgot. Why couldn't he remember what happened? A flash of blood soaked walls. A smiling Flack. He saw himself walking up the stairs, standing on the deck calling for the detective. Another flash of blood. Some yelled something. He felt their hands but he didn't really feel them. His mind was clouded with a dense fog. What was going on?

He tried to open his eyes once again. He ached to see the world around him. A flash of Stella looking down on him, an expression of fear on her face. He tried to call her name, to reach out for her. But he couldn't move. There came another flash of blood. The flash of something silver and metallic. A sharp pain in his throat. He couldn't breathe. His lungs screamed for oxygen. His mind panicked. He felt the blood on his neck, felt it slowly pouring down his chest. He tried to scream for help. No sound came out. He had no voice. He had nothing but the blood in his hands. His blood in his hands.

He felt someone gently shaking him and his eyes slowly slid open. For a minute he was confused about his surroundings. The smiling face of a young lady with auburn hair brought the last few hours rushing back to him. The accident at the crime scene. Watching Danny fall overboard. Seeing him sink further and further into the murky depths without even the slightest sign of struggle. The panic on the shore when his throat closed-up. Then came the hurried drive to the hospital, all the while he prayed for Danny to hang on. Who knew it could be so bad? One minute they'd been talking, the next a life hung in the balance.

He saw himself sitting down in the waiting room as the doctor's words echoed in his mind. The blow to his head, knocking him unconscious, leaving him with a mild concussion. His waterlogged body pulled out into the cool October air, driving his already surprised system into shock. A mind starved of oxygen, a body going cold. He didn't really remember much else after that. Judging from the heavy feeling of his eyelids he must have fallen asleep. The ordeal of the day finally taking its toll on him. He checked his watch. Shift would be ending soon. His boss was going to be furious with him.

"Detective Flack?" said the nurse in a voice as sweet as chocolate.

"Yes?" he replied. "Is he okay? Something didn't happen to him while I was sleeping, did it?"

She shook her head, the smile never leaving her face. "No, Detective. The doctor sent me here to fill you in on his condition. She would have come here her self but she had another emergency," apologized the nurse, a look of shame in her eyes.

It was Flack's turn to smile. "That's quite alright. If anyone knows about emergency it's me. So, tell me, how is he?"

She took a seat in the beat-up chair beside him. The wood groaned a little with the weight of a human, even if she was a thin and lightweight feather-type. "Well, we removed the tube and have bandaged up the incision we made in his throat. His temperature has regulated itself, which is a good thing. Hyperthermia could have set in at anytime. What worries the doctor is those few moments that passed where his brain didn't get the oxygen it needed. It is possible that he suffered slight brain damage. Especially when you calculate the fact that his brain was already rocking from the blow to the head."

"Brain damage?" muttered Flack in disbelief.

The nurse put a hand on his wrist and gave it a slight squeeze. "It shouldn't be anything too bad. We won't really know until he wakes up, though. That's what is important now."

"Can I see him? I sort of promised his boss- our friend, that I would keep him up to date on things," stated Flack, trying desperately to sway his way into the nurse's good graces.

"Of course, I see no reason to why you wouldn't be allowed to see him," she said, standing. "Though I must ask you not to stay long. You may stay out here in the waiting room as long as you like, but it's up to the doctor whether or not you can stay bedside." Once again she flashed him a sympathetic smile.

He smiled back. If he didn't know any better he would have thought she was flirting with him. But that wasn't likely to happen. Surely she saw the ring on his ring finger? He knew that some women found married men to be sexier but more of them turned the other way, choosing instead to find a man that was free for the taking. He followed her down the hallway, idly playing with the silver band. No, he wasn't a married man, but he wanted to stay free. He wanted the one person he truly loved to see that he had no interest in the women that hit on him. They reached the door to the room Danny was being kept in for the time being. She told him once again that he shouldn't stay too long before she took off in the opposite direction.

He placed a hand on the door, wondering if it was worth the heartache to go inside. Danny had been there for him when he'd been hospitalized after being blown-up. It was only fair that he was there when Danny needed him. Pushing the door open he entered the sterile room. How he hadn't missed that smell, that smell that all hospitals seemed to have lingering in their air. Maybe it was a rule that they couldn't smell like a cozy place. They wanted the patients to get better and leave, not hang out and stay forever. It worked. He hated staying in the hospital. He hated stepping foot inside one.

Danny lay in the bed, all sorts of tubes and wires connected to his body. His skin was pale. Flack felt a shudder run down his spine as he took in the white bandage on Danny's neck. On silent footfalls he walked toward the bed, where he took Danny's hand in his own. He watched the rise and fall of the other man's chest as he breathed. As he stood there he thought about the last few years, every scene the two of them had ever worked, everything they'd ever run into. He smiled as he remembered the time Danny jumped from fire escape to fire escape over an alley. The boy was a crazy one, but he just couldn't let a criminal get away. It was a good quality. Even if it did place him in danger now and then.

After fifteen minutes had passed he decided to leave, not wishing to get the sympathetic nurse in trouble. Walking down the hallway, his eyes on the floor, he heard someone say his name. Looking up he was greeted by the sight of Mac and Stella. He shoved his hands into his pockets, hiding the ring on his finger. He never wore it during work. He didn't want to answer the uncomfortable questions it would bring his way.

"How is he?" Stella asked, determined to keep her voice even, to keep the tears from falling.

Flack quickly filled them, telling them everything. It was pointless to keep the details from Mac. He'd just learn them some other way. "My boss is probably going to have my head. I can't believe I didn't make it back to the precinct."

Mac patted his shoulder. "I took care of it. You lost a personal day, but I figured it would be worth it, that you wouldn't mind."

Flack shook his head. "Thanks, Mac. What would we do without you?"

"Let's never find out," he replied.

"I feel like such a fool," Flack blurted out. "I should have stayed downstairs with him. I never should have gone up alone. It was a stupid mistake. He even said so himself that I had to make sure things were safe for him. He questioned the security of the scene. I messed up, and look where it got him."

"You did what you felt was right, Flack," consoled Mac. "And no one ask for anything better."


	4. My Immortal

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Four: My Immortal**

Danny sat in his car, his eyes not really focusing on anything. The engine was off, the radio silent. Outside the world continued to move without him. Cars drove by, buses made stops, people hurried to get where they were headed. The rain-snow mix made the day colder than it actually was, and people were bundled in the warmest clothes, trying to stay dry. He sat there, outside the lab, not really sure what he was doing here. It had been a week and he'd been cleared for work but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to enter the building. He liked being in his car, wrapped in the security and warmth it provided him with. It was his own little cocoon away from the world. He thought about turning on the engine and driving until he ran out of gas. He could go anywhere, do anything. And yet, he sat in his car in front of the lab.

He wasn't really sure what his problem was. He felt fine physically and nothing seemed to be bothering him mentally. There hadn't been any dreams about the accident since his release from the hospital four days ago. Aside from the still healing scar on his throat he didn't even give that day much thought. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he was hiding, running away from something he needed to face. Could anyone really blame him for not wanting to think about the day he nearly died? It wasn't an accomplishment he was proud of. In fact, he'd rather just forget the whole thing. He gazed at himself in the review mirror. If only the scar wasn't there, reminding him every day damn.

Some rapped softly on the passenger side window with their knuckles. Glancing over he received warm smile from Stella, who motioned for him to unlock the door to let her in. He did. She climbed in out of the cold, rubbing her hands together in her lap.

"You've been sitting out here for about an hour now, Danny," she spoke softly. "Aren't you getting cold? You don't even have the engine running."

"An hour? Really?" he said, not really caring that so much time had passed. "It took someone that long to come out and check on me?"

This time her smile was more worrying than friendly. "Mac thought you needed a little thinking time, so he told us to leave you alone. But when the hour passed he began to worry. I volunteered to come check on you. Hawks and Lindsay just left on a case, and Mac would like your help with something. Looks like I'm the one flying solo this time."

Danny frowned. "Does he think I need a babysitter?"

"He's just concerned, Danny. Friends have a tendency to get that way," she explained. She reached over and took his hand in hers. She gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Come on, it's cold out here. Let's get you inside and back to work. It'll make you feel a lot better."

"How can you be sure of that?" he asked her, finally looking at her.

"Trust me," she answered.

Reluctantly he climber out of the car. The wind blew the rain-snow mix into a driving force and it stung as it hit bare skin. It wasn't cold outside, it was downright freezing. The temperature must have dropped a few degrees since he'd gotten into his car a short while ago. The weather no longer amazed him. Winter had come on fast this year and according to the forecasters, the snow would be plentiful. He didn't mind the cold or the snow. He hated the slush, though. Some New Yorker's could be so inconsiderate. They'd drive by, splashing you with slush, leaving you to stand in the cold air soaking wet. What Danny really enjoyed about the snow was the way it captured evidence. In the snow, no one could walk away from a crime scene without leaving behind a trail.

Inside the lab was toasty warm. He could no longer see his breath on the air. Winter was the season that made them dread going to the morgue. Who wanted to set foot inside a freezer inside while it was below freezing outside? Stella gave him a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the labyrinth of the lab. He headed for Mac's office, his hands shoved into his pockets, his head down. He felt like a kid who'd been sent to the principle's office for no apparent reason. Only, there was a reason this time. Mac worried about his team and their well-fair. He couldn't run the lab so efficiently without them.

Mac wasn't in his office when Danny got there, so he just sat in one of the chairs facing the desk. He'd been in Mac's office numerous times. This was his boss's private area. A place where he could sit in peace to look over the day's cases or whatever it was he did in here. Danny found that he didn't really know what Mac did in his office. He never really paid attention to things like that. Maybe he never really paid attention to anything.

"Glad to see you out of your car, Danny," Mac said, walking into the office, two cups of steaming coffee in his hands. He handed one to Danny who took it, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. "Drink it down, get warmed up before I drag you back out into this crazy weather."

"Where are we going?" Danny asked, taking a sip of the warm liquid. It was prepared just the way he liked it. It didn't shock him that Mac knew how he took his coffee. Mac noticed everything. However, he couldn't say how his boss took his coffee. Did he drink it black? Did he like a lot of sugar, or a little?

"Someone murdered a veterinary at a private practice," explained Mac. "We'll head over there in a few minutes."

"Why don't we head over there now?" Danny asked, sipping his coffee again.

Mac perched on the corner of his desk, setting his own cup of coffee down. "Because I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to let you know that your attacker is going to jail. Turns out he was the responsible for murdering Mr. Iwin. Guy wasn't too bright returning to the crime scene."

Danny felt like grumbling. He'd nearly been killed by a man who murdered some rich playboy. Was that supposed to make him happy? He looked at Mac. His boss was looking at him, studying his response to the information. He nodded. "At least he'll pay for his crime."

He had only mentioned one crime. If Mac noticed, he didn't say anything. Instead, he kept looking at his young charge. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, Danny? You've had a relatively rough year. If you want to take some time off, no one would blame you. In fact, I think most of the team expects you to take a vacation."

"What do you expect?" Danny asked.

Mac smiled at him. "I expect you to do whatever feels right. I can't make the choice for you, no one can."

"I just want to work, Mac," he said. "I can't let this guy win. If he keeps me away from my job than he accomplished whatever it was that he wanted. I can't let that happen."

"That's what I like to hear," Mac smiled. "Let's go start working."

The vet office was in a two story brick building that had seen better days. Yet the place had a homely feeling. The vet in question was a woman in her late thirties with mouse brown hair named Lavender Jacobson. The vet office had a small waiting room with red plastic chairs and a salt water aquarium. There were two exam rooms, one surgery room, and a stack of cages for pets to rest in and get better. In the back was a small bathroom. Upstairs, on the second floor, the victim had a small apartment.

Danny followed Mac into the back room where Dr Jacobson lay on the floor, a needle in her arm. Some of the dogs barked at them, a few of them whined, seeking attention. Mac set down his kit, as did Danny.

"Why don't you go interview the receptionist while I start collecting evidence?" Mac said.

Danny shrugged. "Sure." He walked back into the waiting room where a small woman with flaming red hair sat on one of the plastic chairs, a wad of tissues in her hands. From what he had been told by Mac, this woman had been the one to find the vet's body. She was staring out the window, taking in the wintry weather outside when he gently tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, ma'am, I need to ask you a few questions."

She looked at him, sniffling. "Go a head."

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Apple Jacobson," she replied. "Lavender was my aunt. I can't believe that someone would kill her like this. She would never hurt a soul. And this place, it was her world. She loved helping animals. Opening her own clinic really gave her life meaning after husband died of cancer two years ago."

Danny continued to ask the young girl the necessary questions. She always gave him more info the question prompted, but he didn't say anything. He wrote down every word she said, never knowing if this fact or that one would be the answer to the murder. He watched her as they talked, noticing that her eyes kept straying back to the city street outside where cars drove faster than the conditions warranted. To him it looked like she was watching something but every time he glanced outside all he saw was the miserable weather. It wasn't until a hand fluttered to her throat that he saw what she had been watching. A small brown dog had been playing on the sidewalks. Something had prompted him to run out into the road where he was now standing, busily sniffing something interesting to him. Danny knew with the way that people were driving someone was going to hit him.

He didn't fully comprehend what sent him running out the door into the cold air, leaving the warmth of his jacket and the vet's office behind. Maybe he saw himself in that little dog. He didn't really know. But he was able to scoop up the surprised brown bundle and make it back to the sidewalk before the next car went speeding by, drenching him with slush.


	5. Haunted

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Five: Haunted**

They returned to the lab with what little evidence they could find. The body had been transported and the coroner was probably going over it right now. Mac was itching to see Sid and collect whatever evidence there was from the body of the dead vet. However, he had other problems to deal with first. He looked over at his young charge, who was trying desperately not to look like he was shivering.

"Why don't you go take a shower and change your clothes before you catch your death?" Mac said, regretting the last part almost immediately.

Danny took no notice of it. He looked at Mac. They hadn't exchanged any words on the way back to the lab; which had been a surprise to him. He half expected his boss to jump down his throat and yell out him for being such an idiot. He didn't know which was more disturbing, Mac yelling at him or Mac not yelling at him.

"Go, Danny, or you'll get sick," his boss said, looking down at the brown bundle in the other man's arms. The dog, which was about the size of a standard Schnauzer, was fast asleep. Danny hadn't let go of the poor thing since rescuing him from his untimely death. The dog didn't seem to mind in the least. "Don't worry about the dog. I'll take him to the break room and see what I can find for him.' Go take care of your self."

Reluctantly Danny handed over the dog, who woke-up in time to place a lick on Mac's cheek. It made the man smile. They parted ways, Mac heading for the break room with the squirming dog and Danny heading for the locker room to shower. It was a good thing that all of them kept an extra set of clothes at work for just such reasons. They never knew when they would be covered in blood or brain matter or anything else that prompted them to have to change. When he entered the locker room it was empty. The hum of the heater could be heard as he walked toward his locker. The metal was cool to the touch. He pulled the door and threw his personal effects inside. From reading various stories he had learned what a good idea it was to lock up his service weapon. He didn't need someone getting a hold of it and shooting people.

Stripping down to his boxers he balled up his wet clothes and dropped them on the bottom of the locker. He closed the door before heading toward the showers. Reaching inside one of the shower stalls he turned the water on hot before fetching a towel and undressing the rest of the way. With an involuntary shiver he stepped into the shower. He wasn't sure if the shiver was a reaction to being covered in cold slush or because he was now standing under flowing water.

The warm water surged over his body, washing away the chill that his damp clothes had left him with. In its place the dread quickly spread, overtaking his mind. He saw the water once again surrounding him. He felt helpless as he tried to fight, to swim to the surface. Bracing himself against the wall of the shower, he let the water wash over his head, his eyes closed. There was a flash of him falling from the boat. He heard the splash, felt it, as his body hit the frigid water. He felt himself sinking further and further, panic rising in his chest. He bolted from the shower and fell to his knees on the floor outside, panting, trying to drive the panic away. Slowly it began to sink in that he wasn't under water anymore and his heart returned to its normal rhythm. Standing, he turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around his waste and went back to his locker.

He was still just sitting on the bench, his head in his hands, when Hawkes came into the room. "Heard you saved a dog this morning," the former coroner said to him. Danny flashed him a look that pretty much said, "your point?". Hawkes smiled at him. "The girls are going to be all over that little ball of fur if it's the one in the break room with Mac. He's a cute dog, though he seems to be in need of a good home."

"You saw Mac?" he asked tentatively.

Hawkes nodded. "Don't even ask. I can't tell you what's going through the man's head. Although, he did seem to be studying that dog pretty hard. Not sure why, though."

Danny finished getting dressed after Hawkes left. It was hard to fix his hair in the mirror without seeing the scar on his throat. If he could only forget. With his hands in his pockets he made his way toward the break room. Mac wasn't there. But Stella and Lindsay were and they were trying to get the attention of the dog. The poor thing was hiding under one of the chairs and wouldn't come out. He looked scared. At the sight of Danny the dog bolted from under the chair and ran right into him.

Stella smiled. "Looks like you made a new friend today."

"Do you know where Mac went?" he asked, bending down to pick up the frightened dog who instantly relaxed in his arms.

"He went back to his office," Lindsay said. She gave the dog a pat on the head before heading off into the lab to work on her case. Stella just smiled as she walked by. Danny looked down at the dog. He was falling asleep again. What did this dog see in him? What comfort could he possibly offer a dog when he couldn't find any comfort for himself? Shaking his head he started for Mac's office. No one stopped in the halls to talk about the dog. Either they all knew already or they just didn't care. Either way was fine with him.

When he got to Mac's office he found his boss looking over a sheet of paper. From the frown on his face it didn't appear to hold any good news. He thought about turning around and coming back later. He didn't want to catch his boss while he was unhappy. However, before he could turn to leave Mac looked up and upon spotting him, motioned for him to enter the office. With a sigh he opened the door; which wasn't an easy task with the dog in his arms.

"If you plan on keeping that thing, please use your lunch hour to run him home to your apartment," Mac said, once again looking down at the paper. "The lab is no place for a dog to run loose."

Danny stood beside one of the chairs. "Is that what you wanted to see me about?"

"No," Mac said, looking up. "Take a seat, we need to talk."

He took a seat in one of the chairs with a feeling of unease. It was never a good thing when someone said those infamous words, 'we need to talk'. "What's on your mind, Mac?" he asked. Meanwhile he was bracing him self for a good yelling at.

"Though I see saving the dog as an honorable thing, Danny, you can't just go running out into the road like that," started Mac. "The current conditions make the roads slippery and thus, people have less traction when trying to slow down. That car missed you but it could have hit you if you lost your footing. You would have been back in the hospital. Or worse. Next time be more careful. I've already replaced one CSI. I don't want to replace a second one. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," replied Danny, feeling oddly better now that it was done and over with.

"Don't call me sir," Mac said, looking back at the piece of paper.

"Sorry," said Danny. He was curious about the paper, wondering if it had to do with their crime scene and the death of the vet. "So, did Sid have anything new to tell you?"

"There were recent signs of sexual activity, whether or not it was consensual we still have to figure out," he answered. "She was killed by an air embolism. All her other injuries were obtained after her death."

"Why would anyone kill a vet?" Danny asked. "They're like doctors. They save lives."

Mac looked at him. "Why kill anyone?"


	6. Tourniquet

**Title:** Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Language, slash, violence, and angst.

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**Chapter Six: Tourniquet**

He had slept much during the night. Maybe it was the whining of the dog that kept him up. He wasn't used to having pets in his apartment so he didn't have dog food or toys. On his lunch break he would have to remember to pick some up. The only problem was, he didn't feel like going into work. For some reason he didn't want to see the others. They'd only ask him how he was feeling and he would only end up lying to them. He would tell them that he was fine. That he felt great. Truth be told, he felt like shit. The little sleep he did manage to get was filled with nightmares about drowning. All the tossing and turning, waking up covered in sweat, had left him feeling like shit. He felt tired and cranky. There was always the option to call in sick, but he didn't want to give in, he didn't want to feel like a failure. Rooting around in his kitchen looking for breakfast he found the solution to his problem.

Instead of driving to work he opted to take the train. It was noisy and smelly, like always, but he found for once that he didn't care. After everything he'd been through, such small things didn't matter to him anymore. He made a second mental note to check on his brother when he got home for the night. They had not spoken with each other for nearly a month now. With one more stop to go until he got off he gave the car he was riding in one more look over. An old lady sat next to him, her lips moving as she silently read from the bible. A kid sat on his father's lap, asking him all kinds of questions. There was adoration in the man's eyes as he looked at his son. Near the far end of the car two people were having a heated argument. Neither one looked older than twenty-five. The boy was accusing the girl of some heinous act that she claimed never happened. They were airing their dirty laundry out where everyone could see it. Danny just rolled his eyes.

The train shuddered, the lights went off. People began to shift nervously. Nothing had been the same since the attack. People were spooked too easily. For some reason he found that to be bothersome. Maybe because it incited riots and other behaviors that led to death and the need of police. Of course, without death he wouldn't have a job or a way to pay his bills. He yawned. The little boy began to cry, his father trying to soothe him. The old lady beside him was muttering the Lord 's Prayer under her breath. Even the arguing couple had shut up. On schedule, the train reached its next stop. The lights flickered back on. Someone screamed. The sound jolted Danny from his thoughts. At the end of the car, where once there was an argument, two people now sat dead, no signs of outward trauma.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Danny was up and on the move. He pushed people back away from the two bodies. He checked for pulses as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket to call the cops. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, telling him not to touch anything, that it was a job left for the professionals, so he flashed his badge. Everyone backed away from him. The dispatcher said she would get a hold of the train station as well, to keep everyone on the train, or at least in the station. He had the fortune of breaking the bad news to everyone in his car that they weren't going to be making their scheduled destinations on time. There were a lot of grumbles.

He spent the next twenty minutes trying to figure out what to do. Surely they would send Mac over and he didn't want to see him. Not after what he had done this morning. His boss was going to be furious with him. He closed his eyes and cursed himself. How could he let things get so fucked up, again? Right on cue, Mac showed up with Flack behind him. Danny quickly filled his boss in, hoping that if he seemed efficient it wouldn't matter. When he was done he looked into Mac's stone gaze. He was not a happy man. When he could Danny fetched a ride back to the lab with Flack.

"I'm surprised the boss didn't have your head this morning," the detective said, climbing behind the wheel. "I didn't take you for the drinking kind, especially before work." Sympathy flashed in his eyes. "Is there something bothering you?"

"No, I'm just damn peachy," Danny grumbled, buckling his seatbelt. "I don't feel like talking about it."

Flack chewed his bottom lip as they pulled into traffic. "It isn't the answer, Danny. It won't make all your problems go away. If anything, it's going to make them worse. Think about all the dead bodies that pass through the lab each year, killed by drunk drivers. Do you really feel like ending up on Sid's slab? That man is beyond weird. I don't think I've set foot in the morgue since meeting him."

"I thought I said I didn't want to talk about it, so please change the subject," snapped Danny, more forcefully than he wanted to.

There was hurt in Flack's eyes and he regretted the words. But he really didn't feel like discussing his problems with his best friend anymore. Deep down he knew that their friendship would never be the same, not after what had transpired on that boat. For deep in his heart lurked something dark, something even he didn't want to admit, and that was the fact that he blamed Flack for the whole thing. The detective was never supposed to leave the CSI alone, and that's just what Flack did. He'd nearly been killed because of Flack's lapse of common sense. All the blame lay on the detective. And in the same breath, Danny knew it really wasn't the other man's fault. He just wanted someone to blame.

Back at the lab he hightailed it to the break room to avoid running into Mac who would most likely be processing evidence. He sat at the table, a can of soda in his hands. At least a half hour passed before anyone entered the room and when they did, it was only Stella. She obviously hadn't heard anything from Mac because all she wanted to talk about was the little brown dog from yesterday. Danny did his best to be polite but he fell short. Stella gave him a sympathetic pat on his hand before she left. That's what he hated, he thought, as he threw the can in the recycling bin. He hated all the looks of sympathy he had been receiving. He wasn't a lost cause. Not yet. He could either face his fear and the nightmares, or he could let it destroy him. The choice was his to make.

Running a hand through his hair he headed for the locker room. Just one more place he knew he wouldn't find Mac. At the door he bumped into Flack and Lindsay. They were both laughing but quickly hid their grins when they saw him. He pretended to not notice them, pretended to be lost deep in thought. In actuality he was trying to figure out what the two of them had been up to. With his arms crossed over his chest he headed for his locker. Taped to the outside was a white envelope. He pulled it off. Was someone playing some cruel joke on him? He tore it open and dumped the contents into his hand. It was a solid silver band. A typed note said, "Let this be your tourniquet instead". A gift from someone who knew he had been drinking. Not that he'd become a boozer. It had only been two glasses.

As he played with the cool metal ring he let his gaze drift back toward the locker room door. Flack and Lindsay had been in here just moments before him. Only Flack knew about the alcohol. So why was he leaving a ring for Danny?


	7. Imaginary

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Seven: Imaginary**

He sat on the couch in his apartment, the only light on was the lamp beside him on the table. He had been sitting there for the better part of an hour deeply engrossed in his thoughts. He wasn't thinking about work. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the silver ring. It felt cool to the touch. It was solid and wide. A typical man's ring. He'd been thinking about it nearly all day, letting his thoughts be consumed. He refused to believe that Flack had left it for him on his locker. Why would he be leaving a ring behind for him? If it was Flack who left it, perhaps he had put it on the wrong locker. The detective rarely went into that part of the lab, it would have been easy to mix things up. However, Lindsay had been in there too. Could she have left the ring? His brow furrowed. He didn't mind Montana but he didn't see her as more than a friend, and he barely saw her as that.

Curious, he slipped the ring on to find that it was a perfect fit to his left ring finger. Whoever left it knew his size, meaning that the ring was indeed meant for him. He wasn't sure how that little tidbit of knowledge made him feel. Someone had gone out of their way to purchase a ring for him that fit perfectly. The gesture was nice, if not a slight bit creepy. Yet he found himself liking the idea more and more that someone felt something more than friendship for him. And if it was Flack, what did it matter? The fact that he was bisexual had kept him from a lot of trouble; mainly the Tanglewood Boys. They didn't care for his kind.

Getting off the couch and stepping over the sleeping dog he made the short walk to his bedroom. He stopped in the doorway to look around. In the room somewhere was a box his mother had given him two Christmases ago. It contained knick-knacks left behind by his grandmother that his mother didn't want and figured he did. Walking over to the closet he opened the door. Upon the top shelf, buried behind a stack of old forensic magazines, was the box he was searching for. Setting it on his dress he opened it. The box was only the size of a shoebox and held more mementoes than it should have. There were pictures solely in black-and-white, old movie stubs, small trinkets, and even a lock of hair. Rooting around he found what he was looking for, a silver chain. Slipping the ring onto the chain he clasped it around his neck. He didn't feel right wearing the ring in public when he didn't really know who gave it to him. However, it was special to someone and special to him, he wanted to have it close.

There was a knock at the door just than, breaking the silence of his apartment. Putting the lid back on the box he stepped out into the living room. "Oh, don't even bother to budge," he remarked when he saw the dog still sleeping. "Some guard dog you'll make."

He opened the door to find Flack standing there, a bag in one hand and a smile on his face. "Evening, I'm not bothering you, am I? I thought about calling first but thought it would be more fun to surprise you."

"No, no, you're not bothering me," he said, feeling a touch of butterflies in his stomach. Where had they come from? He stepped outside to let Flack in. "What are you surprising me with?"

Flack held up the bag. "Greasy food and movies." He placed the bag on the coffee table and looked down at the dog, who regarded him with sleep dazed eyes. "So this is the pooch you saved, huh? He got a name yet?"

"Widget," he replied. "My mom picked it out. She still can't believe that I have a dog. I have a feeling she'll be over this holiday season just to see him."

"You make that sound like a bad thing," stated Flack, sitting down on the couch.

Danny used the excuse of getting them something to drink to get out of the room. He was feeling uncomfortable around his friend for the first time. He could feel the ring under his shirt. It was only his imagination but it felt like it was burning his skin, that it held a heat he never knew he had. Grabbing two cans of soda from the fridge he placed them on the counter. His head was spinning. Leaning back against the counter he closed his eyes. He couldn't get his thoughts straight. Why did he feel shaky? What was the feeling deep in the pit of his stomach? Ever since the accident life made little sense to him. When he opened his eyes he jumped. Flack was standing before him, head slightly titled, regarding him.

"Something bothering you, Danny-boy?" His blue eyes bore into Danny's, sending shivers racing down his spine.

"I…I was just thinking," he croaked, his throat suddenly dry. He could stop thinking about Flack in ways that he shouldn't. There were flashes in his mind of things he never thought would be there. He saw himself wrapped up in Flack. Kissing him. Running a tongue along the detective's neck.

"You don't look so good," remarked Flack. Danny had gone pale and was sweating. "Maybe I should leave and we can try this another time. You should go to bed."

Danny bit his tongue to keep from saying what was really on his mind. He wanted to invite Flack to stay, to go to bed with him. "That…..that's probably a good idea," he practically whispered.

As soon as he heard the door close he slid to the floor, his head in his hands. He was shaking, trembling like a leaf caught in the wind. Only hours ago things had been normal. Hours ago Flack had been nothing more than his friend. Then he received the ring. Now he had feelings growing inside that he didn't quite understand. And what made it worse was that he wasn't even sure Flack had given him the ring. What if he found himself falling for someone who didn't feel the same? He promised himself that he wouldn't let that happen again. Not after last time. But it had been so long since he'd given his heart away. So long since he'd felt loved. Was it so wrong to want to feel the warmth of someone else embracing him? He sat there, on the floor in the kitchen crying, wishing that Aidan was still alive. He could always run to her when he needed help. Where was he going to run now?


	8. Taking Over Me

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Eight: Taking Over Me**

The next day found Flack sitting in the break room at the crime lab. He should have been at the precinct going through files and taking reports but he didn't feel up to it. It would be lunch time soon and the day was moving slow. There hadn't been a single report of a body anywhere, something that happened very rarely. From what he'd heard Mac had already sent Lindsay and Hawkes home. There were no crimes to process, no backlog to sort through. When he'd gone by Mac's office he had seen the crime lab leader playing a game of cards with Stella. There had been no sightings of Danny though. And he'd been sitting in the same chair for two hours.

He didn't really know what to think of Danny. He acted so strange last night when Flack popped by for a visit. And it was probably his fault. He never should have left that ring on Danny's locker. Listening to Lindsay hadn't been a good move on his part. He frowned at the table, taking a sip from his soda. Why had he even bothered to listen to her anyone? He should have talked with Stella. If anyone knew Danny it would be her and Mac; and he wasn't going to touch upon this subject with Mac. Just the simple thought of it made him feel uncomfortable. Why was it easier for him to discuss the situation with a girl when he didn't even like dating them? He liked men. He liked Danny.

Lost deep in thought he didn't notice Danny walk into the room.

Danny stopped in the doorway. What was Flack doing in their break room? Why wasn't he at the precinct, sitting in at his desk or doing something else? Surely there was something the detective could be doing, anything besides being here. He looked back over his shoulder, thinking of turning to walk away. He could always go to a different floor if he wanted water bad enough. There were vending machines throughout the lab. He turned his gaze back to the detective, who was clearly lost deep in thought. Maybe he would be able to get in and out without being noticed. Taking the chance he walked into the room and headed for the fridge. He had the bottle of water in his hands and was walking toward the door when Stella walked in.

"Hey, Danny," she greeted. Her eyes settled on Flack who was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of her voice. "Flack, what a surprise, I didn't expect to see you here. Do you have a case for us or something?"

He shook his head, looking at Danny, not Stella. "No, I just wanted a quiet place to think. I figured you scientist would be quieter than a bunch of bored and rowdy officers."

"We can be rowdy," remarked Stella. "Can't we, Danny?"

He looked at her from behind his glasses. "Sure, on those rare occasions. Let us not forget what you did about three months ago."

"What did she do?" Flack asked with curiosity in his voice. He kept his eyes on Danny, who seemed to be ready to run the first chance he got. Every time his gaze fluttered toward Flack he would catch the hint of something he couldn't place, something that reminded him of longing. Stella watched them, studying them. A knowing smiled spread across her face.

"What's going on here?" Mac asked, joining them.

"Oh, Danny was just going to tell Flack about my dancing with Aidan," replied Stella with a coy smile. Danny's eyes darkened at the mention of Aidan. "You guys really didn't know what to do with yourselves. I thought you were going to fall out of your chairs. So we had a little to drink and danced together. Girls do it all the time," she shrugged.

Mac smiled, suppressing a laugh. "You two were all over each other like bugs on a corpse."

Flack laughed at the analogy. "Boy, I wish I could have been there. Sounds like you guys had some fun. So scientist can be rowdy and let loose too, huh? Next time, make sure to invite me. I don't want to miss anymore Kodak moments."

"How about we go out tonight?" suggested Stella. "This day is a total drag. We could call up Hawkes and Lindsay, invite them out too. I'd suggest inviting Sid but the guy is creepy enough as it is, I don't want to see what he's like when he lets loose."

Mac agreed that it did sound like fun. Flack jumped at the chance to go out. He loved nights out, anything to forget about his job. But Danny declined, saying that he had stuff to do, that he already made plans and didn't want to cancel them. Flack knew that he was lying. But before he could say anything further on the topic Danny excused himself, leaving his half finished bottle of water on the counter. Stella looked at the detective, trying to register his reaction. Flack practically jumped to his feet and made his way out the door. He heard Mac asking Stella what it was all about as he turned the corner. He wasn't around long enough to hear her answer.

"Have you seen Danny?" Flack asked the receptionist after ten minutes of searching. He was thinking of just giving up, of letting the other man go. It was pointless. Danny couldn't stand to be in the same room as him anymore. He wished he could take back the ring.

"He went outside. Left his jacket behind, which is crazy if you ask me since it's colder than hell outside," the woman replied.

Flack thanked her and made for the front door. The sky threatened snow but the temperature was too cold for it. The wind whipped around the tall buildings, sometimes creating a howling noise. He stood on the sidewalk; hands jammed into his pants pockets. Looking around he tried to find his friend on the crowded city sidewalks. When a momentary clearing formed he was able to see Danny standing near the corner. Shaking his head at the stubborn CSI who had gone outside in a T-shirt he started for the corner. He was only a few feet away when a woman yelled, calling for help as someone stole her purse. Before he could believe Danny was chasing after the man with the green sweater, the man responsible for the crime. A flash of warmth ran through his body. One of the things he really loved about Danny was his drive to help people in need. It mirrored his own drive, his own ambitions. He wasted little time in pursuing the two of them.

When they turned down an alley Flack radioed the precinct, calling for back-up. They'd need a squad car to transport the guy to central booking. Slowing his pace he rounded the corner into the alley and stopped dead in his tracks. A stab of pain hit him square in the chest and memories came rushing back to him. Once again he was on a yacht watching Danny losing a struggle with a larger assailant. The vision of Danny falling overboard played again in his mind, with it came anger. With a stride full of purpose he began to head into the alley, yelling out that he was a detective. The purse snatcher took one look at the gun trained on him before dropping the purse and running.

When Flack managed to reach Danny he found him leaning back against a brick wall, trying to catch his breath, blood on his bottom lip. He holstered his gun, staring into Danny's eyes. Their eyes met and Flack could swear something switched on in Danny's eyes. He felt something over taking him, wrapping around them, muffling the sounds of the world, and trapping them alone in time. The blood on Danny's lower lip was hypnotizing. The sound of his beating heart mimicked that of Flack's, sending the adrenaline coursing through his blood. They drew closer, their mouths mere inches apart, both men leaning in for a kiss when the sound of sirens penetrated their cocoon.

Danny thrust back into the here and now pulled away, remembering who he was and where they where. A blush crept across his cheeks, turning them a rosy shade that even the cold couldn't create. Flack wanted to reach out to him, to say something but he couldn't move. For a fleeting moment he'd almost received the greatest gift in the world. It was his own fault they had been interrupted. As he watched Danny walk toward the end of the alley and the squad car he cursed himself. He felt hot and bothered and unrelieved, the way he'd been feeling the last few weeks. He couldn't take the rush of emotion anymore. The sheer desire he had for Danny made him hard just seeing the other man. He didn't want to go home for another night alone and aching. Something had to change. He could either admit to Danny how he felt or he could try tearing out the feelings that were rooted deep in his heart. He had to make a choice. He had to act. He just couldn't take it anymore.


	9. Hello

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Nine: Hello**

Why he was lying on the floor he really couldn't tell, but it was where he had been most of the night. After the incident in the alley he had felt even worse and more confused then before. The others had extended the invitation to him for drinks that evening, only he denied going. He lied about the plans he wanted to keep. There weren't any plans. It was Flack that kept him from going. Being around the detective sent emotions racing through his body and he couldn't make sense of them. He wanted the detective and at the same time he wanted to run in the other direction, putting as much distance between them as he could.

He reflected on all the times they'd shared in the past. Every look, every touch, every smile took on a new meaning. It was always there, staring him right in the face and he hadn't seen it. What kind of CSI was he? Flack was protective of him, more protective than a friend should have been. Rolling onto his side he thought about the alley. He let the adrenaline take over; he was consumed by the mere presence of the detective. In that fleeting moment he wanted Flack more than he had ever wanted anyone else in the world. The arrival of the others kept him from stepping into unstable territory. He couldn't get involved with Flack, even if they both wanted it. For one thing, how would the others react? Would they be judgmental or accepting? Mac wasn't big on office romances, or so he said. Danny saw the way he looked at Stella. It was only a matter of time before he broke his own rule. And what if the relationship didn't work out? How would they handle working together?

The clock chimed the hour, ten-o-clock at night and he was still lying on the floor. He'd been laying there since returning home from work, letting the dark wrap around him. All his current problems ran back to the drowning incident. He never would have drunken that alcohol before work if things had been normal. Without the alcohol there wouldn't be a ring, the ring he still wore around his neck. And without the presence of the ring his mind wouldn't be so confused. He wouldn't be so lost. He let out a sob. He was sinking fast and there weren't any life-preservers for him to grasp onto. Without really knowing why he reached out and grabbed his cell phone off the coffee table. Flipping it open created a soft glow in the darkness. He hit the speed dial button before he could chicken out. It was a now or never situation. Not that he really knew what he was doing.

After the fourth ring his nerves began to give out and he was going to hang-up when someone picked up. "Hello?"

He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do anymore. He felt like he was losing himself. With a voice full of sorrow and desperation he said one word, "Flack."

The line went dead. The silence went through his body like electricity. Staring at the cell phone, he felt the tears that had been hiding escape, freely racing down his cheeks. Of all things that had been the last he expected to happen. How could Flack just hang up on him like that? Maybe he read the signals wrong, maybe Flack didn't like him that way and the incident in the alley scared him. Danny threw his phone across the room. He heard the soft thud of it hitting the floor. He closed his eyes, letting the sobs ease from his body. He lost track of time, and nearly jumped when someone shattered the silence by knocking on his door. Instead of getting up to answer he rolled over, lying on his other side, turning his back to the door. Fuck whoever it is, he thought. All his friends were out partying and having a good time while he slowly unraveled on the floor of his apartment.

The knocking became more insistent, until it was a pounding. "Danny," called Flack, his voice uncertain.

"Go away," mumbled Danny in reply, too low for anyone but himself to hear.

"Danny, are you in there?"

"Go away," he said louder, his voice cracking in a half sob. He heard the doorknob turn, the door open, and silent foot falls of shoes on the carpet. He didn't bother to budge.

Flack flicked on a lamp, casting soft light on the room but leaving shadows in the corners. "Danny," he whispered, crouching down beside him. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Acting purely on impulse he pushed Flack away, getting up from the floor. "Why are you here?" he asked, trying to sound composed when he wasn't even close to being so.

"You called me, or did you already forget?" There was a hint of anger in Flack's voice.

Danny looked at him, taking in the way he was dressed. It was interesting to see him out of a suit. Danny could wear pretty much whatever he wanted to work but the detective was always in a suit. Tonight he was wearing a light blue T-shirt that made his eyes brighter and a pair of faded jeans that showed off his body. Danny was tempted to ask him to turn around. "I didn't mean to call you," he lied, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. "It was a misdial. Nothing more. I'm sorry I bothered you."

"Don't try feeding me that bullshit, Danny," replied Flack, stepping toward him. "I know that you called me and meant to, I'm not stupid. What I don't understand is why I bothered to come here. You obviously don't want me here."

"Why did you hang up on me?" was all that Danny could think to say.

Flack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because I was with the others and I didn't want them to get worried about you. They needed this night, anyone could tell. You guys do some pretty hard work; you see some pretty fucked up stuff. You deserve the right to let loose once in a while. I figured I'd just come here and whatever was on your mind would be sorted out. I guess I was wrong."

"It was a mistake," Danny insisted, stepping back and hitting the wall. He hadn't realized he was that close to it.

"I don't believe that," Flack said, stepping closer to him. They were now merely inches apart, closer than they had been in the alley. "If that were true than how do you explain the alley? We nearly kissed. I saw something in your eyes; it was there for a second before it vanished. I spent the day wondering if I'd really seen it at all. And now I know that I did because it's there again, in your eyes, right now."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He could feel his temperature rising. Flack's intense gaze made him weak in the knees. He felt the stirring emotions racing through his body. In reaction he felt himself getting aroused. His breathing quickened.

"You're confused and lost, fading into the dark, seeking the light," answered Flack, leaning even closer. "Let me help you find the way out. I want to help you understand, to find the answers that you need to have."

That's when he kissed him. At first it was little more than a kiss but it quickly turned to a passionate and hungry lip lock. Danny felt himself growing weak, like he was melting into a puddle. Instinctively Flack wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. The warmth of his body, the feeling of him so close only further aroused Danny. The kiss was long, lasting minutes. When Flack tried to pull away Danny grabbed the front of his shirt, keeping him near, holding onto him like the life preserver he desperately sought. Flack pushed him back against the wall, placing his hands on Danny's hips. He broke the kiss only to move his lips to Danny's neck. The sensation sent shockwaves through Danny's body. It had been so long since he'd been kissed, so long since he had last gone to bed with someone.

He let his hands wander, slipping them up the back of Flack's shirt, touching bare skin that was hot. He wanted Flack out of his shirt, to see his bare chest. He was afraid to ask, though, afraid it would ruin the moment, that the other man was self conscious about his scars. Flack moved, shifting his weight, drawing him ever closer. He was surprised how aroused he became with Flack's hands on his hips, his lips on bare skin. They were close enough for Flack to feel Danny's erection. This wasn't what he had come to the apartment for. He had come to see if Danny was okay. Though he couldn't complain about how things were turning out. He wanted to undress Danny and take him to the bedroom to spend the rest of the night fucking. Not yet, he'd have to bid his time, make sure that Danny was aware of what was going on. As their lips met once again Danny thrust against him. Flack nearly lost his composure.

The ringing of Flack's cell phone broke through their bubble. "Ignore it," Danny said breathlessly.

"Anything you want," he replied before nibbling on Danny's ear. Two seconds later Danny's cell phone, which lay half way across the room, began to ring. They knew then that the lull in suspicious deaths had ended. There was work to be done. With a sobbing sigh Danny leaned into Flack, resting his forehead on the detective's chest.


	10. My Last Breath

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Ten: My Last Breath**

Regretfully they parted company. Flack walked out into the cool night air, a bitter chill was welcoming to his body, driving the burning desire away. As he walked to his car he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if their phones hadn't begun to ring. Would they have gone all the way or would Danny have stopped him? He should have been joyful, finally knowing how Danny felt about him. Yet, the emotion wasn't there. There was a chance that Danny wasn't thinking right, that he was just looking for some comfort. He climbed into his car, thinking about the scene that had just taken place. The way they held on to each other, the way they touched, there had to be something there, something more than just comfort. Parting company turned out to be hard for him; he wanted to stay with Danny. Seeing him at the crime scene would be interesting. How would he react? Would the others be able to tell that something changed between them?

Flipping on his siren he pulled out into traffic and left Danny behind. Temporarily. They'd see each other soon enough. He radioed in, letting dispatch know that he was on his way to the scene. How long would he be there before Danny showed up? And who would Mac send along? Driving up to the location he parked by the front door, leaving his siren flashing in the night. Mac met him at the door.

"Long time no see," Flack said to him, a smile on his face.

"This isn't exactly the best time to meet people," replied Mac, eyeing him.

Flack shrugged. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. Some people have a drive to kill one another." He looked at the building, a thought crossed his mind. "Hey, you knew this place was the location and you still called Danny, why? Don't you think he'll have a problem with this?"

"I can't have a CSI on my team that can't cope with his job," stated Mac matter-of-factly. "I'm aware that this could be a potentially hard situation for him, but he needs to do it. Plus, he's more sober than the others. You saw how much they were putting away, with the exclusion of Stella. I set them up with a taxi before leaving them and brought Stella along with me. However, I won't be surprised if someone doesn't show up tomorrow because they have a serious hangover."

Flack smiled. "You guys really do know how to have your fun. Though I must say, I'm slightly shocked that you don't drink, Mac Taylor. Weren't you a Military man?"

"Not all Military men drink, Flack," he said, gazing at his watch. "Danny's running late. Wait here for him; I'm going inside to see how Stella is progressing and to help with the scene."

Flack nodded his understanding and watched as Mac walked into the building. The tone of his voice hadn't been a reassuring one. Danny was going to get a stern talking to when he showed up. The boss liked everyone to have a prompt and timely response. Flack chewed his bottom lip, wondering if he should have just brought the CSI along with him. Sure there would have been unasked and unanswered questions but at least he would have been here. He looked out over the parking lot, thinking once again about the scene in the apartment. He wanted to rewind time, to step back and enjoy the embrace, the kisses, the feeling that was steadily building between them. A pair of headlights swept across the parking lot as Danny finally arrived on the scene. Flack's cell phone began to ring again. He plucked it from his pocket, walking a few feet away from the door, not that anyone was going to be able to eavesdrop on his conversation, since no one was around.

Parking in one of the free spots Danny climbed out his car, grabbing his kit from the backseat. His eyes trailed over the sign above the door that was lit with baby blue lights. A shudder ran down his body. Mac had a bad sense of humor. He walked toward the door of the aquarium, trying not to think about much of anything. Flack was standing near the door on the phone, he motioned toward the glass doors, letting Danny know that he was to go inside. A slight heat built in his cheeks and he was quick to step over the threshold and out of the cold night air. The comfort of avoiding Flack quickly dissolved as he looked ahead. The pathways of the aquarium were surrounded by water. The strong glass, or whatever it was, made see-through walls on both sides of the walk way and arched up over the path, making the patrons feel as though they were under water. Danny stood his ground, trying to figure out the best way to go about things. He could hightail it home and piss off Mac, or he could walk into the watery world.

Looking over his shoulder the thought of going back was erased when he saw Flack, still talking on the phone, gesturing wildly. At the moment he didn't want to see the detective. He wasn't sure what to make of the way they had acted in his apartment just mere minutes ago. To put it bluntly he felt shocked and scared. He'd always known that he liked guys and girls but he had never actually been with a man before. He'd always been afraid of the looks others would give him if they knew. He had only ever confided in Aidan, and she was gone. Leaning against the wall he was concealed in the shadows when Flack finally entered the building. The detective walked right by him without seeing him. He could easily leave now; there was nothing to keep him from going. Except his respect and love of the job.

With heavy steps he started in the direction that Flack had taken. Every step took him deeper into the labyrinth of water. Fish of various sizes and colors swam around him. The occasional shark, turtle, or stingray would glide by before disappearing into the darkness. His heart began to beat faster. He felt the sweat forming on his brow as he drew nearer to the crime scene. He could see the yellow tape only a few feet away. In the silence of the building it was easy to hear the others as they talked.

"I don't care what I said, just forget about that, Flack," came Mac's voice, authorative and urgent. "He can't see this; he's not ready for it. Go find him and send him home."

"He should have been here, he came through the door before I did," replied Flack, sounding a bit perplexed.

"It's a big place," Stella joined in. "Maybe he took a wrong turn."

"Find him and get him the hell out of here," snapped Mac.

"Too late," stated Stella as Danny rounded the corner and set his eyes on the crime scene. The body of a middle-aged man lay on the ground. He was dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a green T-shirt bearing the name of the aquarium. The man was soaked from head to toe. A black door a few feet away lay propped open, access to the tanks so that workers could swim with the animals and check their health or just feed them. Though he couldn't see all the way inside the door what he could see was unwelcoming. Water puddled on the floor, seeping out into the hallway.

Stella thrust her camera into Flack's hands as he and Mac stood there in shock, trying to think of a response. Meanwhile Danny was quickly falling apart. The flashbacks and nightmares came racing back to him. He saw himself drowning, sinking further and further into the murky depths, sinking ever closer to his death. He dropped his kit on the floor as he began to hyperventilate, gasping for air as his heart picked up in rhythm. He began to shake as he remembered the feel of the cold water, the way it seemed to enjoy taking him away from the world of the living. Stella grabbed him, pushing him back a few steps and eventually getting him to turn around. With haste she got him outside in the cold air. He pushed away from her, heading for a potted plant a few feet away. He bent over, dry heaving as the cold air washed around him, driving the panic away. When he felt the urge pass he turned around, sitting on the ground, and leaning back against the pot. Stella sat beside him.

"He never should have called you here," she said softly. "Sometimes I don't think he really understands how people react to certain situations. This was clearly too much too soon." She reached out and took his hand. "I'll talk with him, making him take things a little easier when it comes to you. At least for a little while."

Danny didn't say anything to her. He liked Stella and had worked with her ever since joining the team. Yet, he'd never really felt as close to her as he had been with Aidan. In fact, the first few nights after learning of Aidan's death he had caught himself wishing it had been Stella instead. The thoughts made him sick to his stomach. Now here she was, some time later, trying to give him comfort and help him. What kind of person was he?

"You don't have to say anything," she said to him. "Why don't you head home, get some sleep? And if I were you, I would call in sick tomorrow. Unless you have a clever way to hide that hicky."

His cheeks flushed as he brought a hand to his neck, remembering how Flack had brought his lips to the same spot. "I…it…"

Stella winked. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me."

She left him there, returning to the job at hand. He stared at the sidewalk desperately trying to figure out what she had meant. Surely she didn't know that he had been with Flack. Or did she? She did spend an awful lot of time with Mac, his perceptiveness was sure to rub off on her. He closed his eyes, sitting there a few minutes longer, wondering why life had gotten so out of his control.


	11. Whisper

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Eleven: Whisper**

He was beginning to think it was impossible to make heads or tails of the situation, of life in general. They were supposed to be his friends, the people he could count on the most when he needed them. Yet, he found himself feeling more alone than ever. He felt alienated, unimportant, as though he weren't even a blip on the radar. They went about their daily routines bypassing him and forgetting he existed. He watched them, smiling and laughing, hanging on each others every word. He wanted to be important, to be noticed. To be loved. He wanted so much to understand where he stood in the thick of things. Was he on the inside locked away in a windowless room, or was he outside in the cold wishing for warmth? Did he stand on solid ground or was it quickly crumbling under his weight? He wanted to see the light, to escape the darkness, but it clung to him, dragging him deeper and further into the gloom of his own mind.

He had ignored Stella's advice to stay home because of the hicky that was very visible on his neck. He didn't really care what they thought of him anymore. The looks of pity, the wonder in the eyes, it was getting to be too much for him. They already thought he was weak, no doubt the entire lab had heard about his meltdown at the aquarium. Just one more thing he would never live down. One more thing he would never forget. No matter how much he wished he knew he couldn't take it back. It happened. Another knot in a once smooth and straight piece of cord. The way his life was going lately he didn't even want to get out of bed. And yet, here he was, walking the hallways of the lab, avoiding the stares he got from the others. Were they laughing at him? He shook his head, he had to get a grip or he was going to lose it. Maybe he already had.

Stepping into the locker room he walked toward his locker. There was a piece of paper taped to the door. He tore it off, crumbling it into a ball before opening his locker and throwing it inside. Someone probably playing a joke on him, leaving behind some crude sketch of him freaking out or even some wise ass comment. He grabbed his lab coat, pulling it on and slamming the door to his locker harder than he should have. He strode out of the locker room heading for the Trace Lab. There was evidence to go over from the case last night. The door opened and he nearly bumped into Lindsay who was walking with her head down, her eyes trained on the piece of paper in her hands.

She looked up at him and scowled. "It's not funny, Danny," she snapped, tears making her eyes sparkle.

He cocked an eyebrow. "What the hell are you talking about, Montana?"

She waved the paper in the air. "This, where do you get the right to do this? It isn't any of your business what happened in my past.

He grabbed the piece of paper away from her as the tears began to fall from her eyes. A picture of Lindsay sporting a busted lip and a black eye had been printed out. Along the bottom someone had written a crude note and signed his name. Why didn't that surprise him? His luck was worse than usual lately. "I didn't do this, Lindsay," he said, his voice full of compassion.

"I know how you people are, you all want to know why the poor country girl moved out of the sticks to the big city," she said. "I don't know which is worse; the fact that you went snooping into my background or the fact that you put this where everyone could see it."

"I didn't do it," he said again. She was never going to believe him. The two had crossed paths rarely since she started and when they did talk, it never really went well.

"I hate to do this to you, Messer, but I'm taking this to Mac. He deserves to know what kind of employee he has in his lab," she remarked, pushing past him to get out the door.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his lab coat as he watched her go. Mac couldn't possible believe that he would stoop that low. Sure, he was curious about the new girl but he had never thought to snoop into her background. People deserved their privacy. He thought about the piece of paper that had been taped to his own locker. It took on a whole new interest, no longer just a piece of paper. What if it was enough to clear him of the crime at hand? Retracing his steps he stepped into the locker room. Hawkes was standing there, holding a tape recorder in his hand. He took one look at Danny before leaving without saying a word. Retrieving the paper from the bottom of his locker he began to unfold it. The color picture printed on the paper made the color drain from his face. This was all the evidence he needed to draw the blame away from him but he couldn't show it to Mac. He couldn't show it to anyone. Sighing, he folded the paper, shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans. Taking off his lab coat he closed his locker with barely any force.

Heading straight for Mac's office he figured it would be best to face the music now instead of later. He was going to lose his job. Just another knot in the thread. Another sharp tug into the darkness. There was no escaping. As he suspected both Lindsay and Hawkes were in Mac's office. He was, however, surprised to see Stella there too. She was sitting on the edge of Mac's desk. Mac was standing behind the desk trying to make sense of the rambling and accusations that Hawkes and Lindsay were dispersing. Danny couldn't stop himself from walking into the room. All eyes turned to him.

"Lindsay, Hawkes, will you please excuse us?" Mac said, taking control over the situation before he lost it. They left, giving Danny dirty looks as they did. "Sit," Mac ordered. Danny obeyed, it was the best thing he could do. "Explain to me why I have two very unhappy CSI's saying that you violated their privacy."

"Not that it matters to anyone here, but I did not do this," he replied slowly making sure that every word was heard. "I have no reason to hurt either one of them. And you know me, Mac; this isn't something I would do. I can't believe that you would think this low of me."

Mac rubbed a hand over his forehead like he was in pain. "Danny, to be honest, I don't know what to think. I never would have thought you'd come to work drunk, but we know that it happened."

"So that's it? You're just going to assume that I did this? Fine," he said as he stood, "if you're going to accuse me outright than I'm leaving. I don't need any of this shit. You are supposed to be my friend, Mac. Not my judge."

He didn't even bother to wait for an answer. He just stormed out of the room. Lindsay and Hawkes were against the far wall huddled close together and whispering. They watched him walk away. He was beyond feeling lonely. He had reached the stage where he wished he no longer existed. The pain and confusion was beginning to make him feel numb, empty, cold. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Danny, I believe you," Stella said softly. She turned him to face her, placing her hands on his shoulders. "I know this isn't you, but there has to be some proof."

Pain flashed in his eyes. The only proof he had was the picture in his back pocket. Could he trust her with it? Could he show it to her or would it land him in even more trouble? The look in her eyes seemed sincere. She said she believed him. She was the only one who did. That had to be worth something, to prove something. He pulled the picture from his back pocket and slipped it into her hand. She took it and began to unfold it.

He stopped her. "I don't want him to know, Stella. I….he…please, don't tell him. Just convince him that it wasn't me. He'll believe you. Please."

Unfolding the paper the rest of the way she let her eyes take in the picture before her. She folded the paper back up and gave it to him. Placing a hand on his cheek she said, "Don't worry, hun, I won't tell him. I'll talk with him; make him understand that you were targeted too. Things will work out. Maybe for now you should go out for a little bit, get some fresh air, let me use my charm on the boss. I promise to call you when all is said and done."

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely a whisper to hide the fear that was building in his chest.


	12. Thoughtless

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Twelve: Thoughtless**

Danny paced the floor of his apartment while he waited for the knock that was eventually going to come. The day had been trying, leaving him oddly tired even though he had a lot of pent up energy. The picture scared him, sending his memory back to years before, years he wanted to forget again. There had to be a way to bury the memories. A way to hide the fact that he was about to lose it completely. Stella had been able to convince Mac that he wasn't responsible for the picture or the tape that had been left for Lindsay and Hawkes. Nothing had been resolved, though. It was hard for them, feeling like the outsiders. He could see it in their eyes when he'd left early. They thought of him as some spoiled boss's pet. They felt pushed aside because they hadn't been part of the close-knit group for that long. Sure, Hawkes had been with the lab for some time but mainly as the coroner. He did his job and that was that. Then he became a CSI and things changed. Lindsay joined the group. Both of them were still relatively fresh. The lab was dividing between old blood and new blood. That's how they saw it. Mac backed him up because he'd been there longer, nothing more.

His pacing picked up speed as he rubbed his right hand over his left arm. The anger kept him going. He was tired of things not making sense anymore. The confusion in his head was keeping him up at night, making him jumpy when he went out, made him believe that others were talking about him. He was tired of being paranoid. That's why he called Flack. There were things on his mind, things in his heart that had to come out. Things that would help to clear the air and free him of this ever tightening panic. At least he hoped it would turn out that way. He didn't put much hope into the outcome of the proceeding event, not with the bad luck he'd been experiencing.

He looked into his bedroom. Widget slept under his bed, only the dog's nose was visible. All the dog seemed to do was sleep. Why couldn't he sleep like that? Just one night he wanted to sleep without interruptions. He didn't want the nightmares or the unanswered questions to wake him up anymore. Sleep was meant to be a time when he could escape from the world, relax and just let go. That was a release he no longer had and it was only proving to enhance his other problems. He looked out the window at the starry night knowing that a bitter chill had settled permanently on New York for the next few months. They had completely skipped over autumn, going straight from the hot blistering summer into a freezing winter. They missed the transition, the time to acclimate. If he was one to believe in such things he would think that was what was responsible for his run of bad luck. The universe was off. But he didn't believe in things like that. Never had.

There was a knock at his door. He stopped, starring down at the floor. Was he really going to do this, was he really going to bare his soul and rid his mind of all the unpleasant thoughts that kept him awake? There was only one way to find out. With slow deliberate steps he walked toward the door. His hand on the knob, he turned it, opening it a crack to make sure it was indeed Flack who waited on the other side. The detective smiled at him, a sparkle in his blue eyes. Danny walked away from the door. Flack stepped inside, closing it softly behind him. The smile had faded from his face as he entered the apartment, feeling the mood that Danny was in.

"What happened this time?" he asked, skipping over the pleasantries. His mother would be unhappy with him; she'd raised him better than that.

Danny eyed him, taking in the dark gray dress pants and the white buttoned dress shirt. At least he'd removed his tie and the suit jacket. He didn't look completely like he had just come from work, though he probably had. "We need to talk about some things."

"Like what?" asked Flack as he took a seat on the couch. Danny made no move to sit, though. He seemed to feel better standing across the room, keeping a good distant between them. Flack couldn't help but feel hurt. Last time he'd been in this apartment things had been different. There had been a feeling of love, of longing. Now it was cold. He wished he hadn't come but he couldn't find the strength to say no when Danny beckoned. Someday it would be his downfall.

"I haven't been able to sleep more than a few hours each night. I can't clear my head. My work is suffering. My boss jumps to accusations without first taking in all the evidence. I see the way people look at me like I'm some freak at a sideshow. Being at work is stressful now. And when I come home I can't relax. There's no comfort in this apartment. All I do is stare at these walls and think about the shit that keeps me up at night," he said in one breath.

"And do you know what it is that makes you feel this way?" Flack inquired, clasping his hands in his lap.

"You," was all Danny said in reply.

"Me? What have I got to do with anything?" asked Flack in surprise. "I admit that last time I was here things got a little out of control but you didn't stop it from happening."

Danny began to pace again. "I've had a lot of time to think during the endless nights and I've come to one simple conclusion. My life started to really fall apart after I nearly drowned. And you know why I nearly drowned, Flack? Because you left me undefended at a crime scene."

The detective flinched. Danny had touched upon his old doubts. Doubts that Mac had tried to reassure him were pointless. "I was only doing my job, Danny. Someone was walking around a crime scene and that's against the law. I had to apprehend them."

"You could have called for back-up and waited for them," Danny replied quickly, not wanting to back down even the slightest. "But no, you had to go up there, leaving me without a clue as to what was going on. I could have died. Hell, I nearly damn did. Then people get mad at me for drinking to take away the edge. So what, who the fuck cares if I have a drink or two before work? It didn't impair my judgment that day, did it?"

"No," Flack answered quietly. He felt like a knife had been driven through his gut. The hatred in Danny's eyes was clear and bright, and directed at him. As much as it pained him to see that hatred in the eyes of the man he loved he refused to get up and leave. He wasn't about to walk away because Danny needed to vent. It had been bound to happen at some point. Things couldn't remain bottled up forever. No, he resolved to sit there and listen to everything that Danny had to say, even if it did prove hurtful in the end. He loved him too much to walk away now.

Danny laughed. "Don't even get me started on today. I have never felt so betrayed. Nothing like having people who are supposed to be friends up and backstab you. I don't even want to return to work but what choice do I have? Why should I be the one to run with my tail tucked because someone is out there trying to make my life a living hell? I want to fall into pieces but I can't because I'm too damn stubborn to know when to quit. Maybe that's been my problem all along. I just don't know when to step back and let things go." Danny's anger was running out, his mood quickly turning to depressed. "For a long time it was like living in a bubble, oblivious to what could happen. I did my job. I processed crime scenes never thinking how someday it would be someone I knew. Now the bubble has popped and the world is a dark and lonely place with no one for me to run to."

Flack had gotten up from the couch. Danny had his back to him so he didn't see him move. The detective stopped before him, reaching out, placing a finger under Danny's chin, and lifting his eyes until their gazes locked.

"You just yelled at me, blaming me for your near death, and you know what? I'm still here, Danny," he said quietly. "If you need someone to run to than why not run to me?"

"Because I don't like how I feel around you," he answered honestly.

"And how do you feel around me?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Like I'm going to loose control. You scare me," Danny replied. "I know how you feel about me, anyone can see it. Part of me thinks the feelings are mutual. The other part of me says I should run, that I should get as far away from you as possible."

"Have you figured out which part you're going to listen to?"

"No," Danny answered flatly.


	13. Farther Away

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Thirteen: Farther Away**

Walking into the lab Danny has vivid flashbacks of the day before, of the accusation and hatred written on the faces of colleagues, of friends. His stomach turned and he wondered why he came back to work. He could have taken the time off. He should have. But running wasn't his style. That's not how he was raised. He went to his locker, grabbed his lab coat, and headed for the Trace Lab. With the recent crime spree there was bound to be evidence that needed processing. He felt odd, remembering that yesterday he had done similar things and it had ended on a bad note. It had fed him full of doubt and worry, making him snap at Flack, the only person he felt he could turn to. Wait, that wasn't true, he thought, Stella had been pretty friendly the last few days. She'd been there, showing him that she was more than just a senior CSI.

He was about to enter the Trace Lab when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He jumped slightly at the sudden unexpected contact. He turned to find Mac standing behind him, folder in hand. He handed Danny a slip of paper. "I need you to take Lindsay and process this scene."

Lindsay wouldn't want to go anywhere with him. "Can't I go with you or Stella? Or maybe she can work the scene with Hawkes. They seem pretty attached lately."

"It's you and her. I've given the vet case to Hawkes and Stella is working the drowning victim. I've got a death in a park to process. You and Lindsay are the only two left. If another suspicious death comes in we'll all be flying solo," Mac sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. The lab had never been stretched that thin.

"Mac-"

He put up a hand. "I know that Lindsay and Hawkes aren't on speaking terms with you. This is something you guys will have to work out between each other. I will not have my team split down the middle over false accusations. You should all know better than to jump to conclusion, especially in this line of work. Now go find Monroe and get to work. Death waits for no man," he said, parting company.

Danny looked down at the address written on the paper. It was only two blocks away from his own apartment. A shudder ran down his spine. It had to be a mere coincidence. Did he even believe in coincidences? No, he thought as he went looking for Lindsay, he'd given up on coincidences the first week of being a crime scene investigator. Death was never a coincidence. It happened for a reason. Unfortunately, most times that reason ended up being something ridiculous. He shoved the paper into his pocket, throwing his lab coat into his locker, and grabbing his gun. With luck he bumped into Lindsay on his way out of the locker room. She took one look at him before turning to head back the way she came.

"Hey, wait up, Montana," he called after her. "We have a scene to work."

She looked back over her shoulder. "I am not working a case with you." There was venom in her voice.

"Mac assigned the case to both of us. I think you know perfectly well how he'll react if we don't do this together," Danny said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was hoping she would continue to reject working with him. He'd go to the scene and process it himself. Mac would be mad at her, not him.

"Fine," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. "Lets just get this done and over with."

They gathered up their kits and headed for the apartment building. The ride was a silent one but the emotions made the car seem stuffy. Lindsay never even looked in his direction once. She pretended he wasn't sitting a few inches away from her. Danny wished yesterday had never happened. He and Lindsay hadn't been the best of friends but they were on their way to being friends. Now it was like she didn't even notice him, he wasn't there, he didn't exist to her. Working a crime scene with her was going to be harder than it should have been. Maybe he'd get lucky and Flack would be there. The presence of the detective would give him at least a little piece of mind. He'd have someone to talk to, someone to theorize about the crime with.

He pulled the company vehicle into the first free spot he found. They had to walk half a block to get to the crime scene . That was New York, though. Danny relaxed as he saw Flack waiting outside for them. He flashed a smile at them. "Well, if it isn't Messer and Monroe. You two would make a cute couple, you know."

Lindsay flashed him a dirty look. "Don't even think it," she snapped before walking into the building ahead of them.

"What the hell is her problem?" Flack asked, watching her go.

"Me," Danny said, following after her. His relief had been washed away. Why would Flack say such a thing to him, and with a smile on his face nonetheless? Did he really believe that they would make a cute couple, or was he just trying to hide how he felt?

"Hey, Messer," Flack called, running up behind him. "You got a bug up your butt, too?"

"No," he replied, "I just have to work a crime scene with someone who hates me more than anyone else on this planet."

"Why does she hate you? Last time I saw the two of you together you weren't friends, but at least you were cordial to each other," remarked the detective as the walked up the flight of stairs to the second floor.

"Something happened at work yesterday, and no, I'm not in the mood to talk about it, so don't even ask," Danny warned. Quickly he changed the topic. "What have we got this time?"

"Words cannot explain this one, you'll just have to see for yourself," he answered. He grabbed Danny's wrist, pulling him to a stop before they reached the second floor. "I was only kidding, Danny-boy, the two of you wouldn't make a cute couple. I don't think I would be able to see you two together. Would break my heart."

Danny blushed with embarrassment. He didn't know what to say in reply. Words and thoughts raced through his mind but none of them seemed appropriate. Flack saved him the trouble of having to say anything by stepping into the second floor hallway. A few cops were making the rounds, asking the neighbors about the dead person. Danny, his head hanging down, walked after Flack. Lindsay was standing by the front door, leaning back against the hallway wall. All the color had drained from her face. He stepped into the apartment behind Flack, who stopped.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked.

"Do I really have a choice in the matter? This is my job. I've seen all kinds of gruesome things, how bad can this be?"

Flack shrugged and stepped aside, giving Danny access to the living room. He placed his kit on the floor, stepping into the room to survey the scene. His blood ran cold. It was something he had seen before, something he wished he would never have to see again. There was no doubt in his mind that the crime committed in the apartment was a message for him. He knew it hadn't been a coincidence. He covered his mouth with his hand. The victim lay behind the couch, out of sight, but for his bare feet which were covered in blood. Danny didn't have to see the body to know the extent of the injuries. He knew how the victim had suffered. He could hear the guy scream as the knife dug into his flesh again and again. Blood dripped off the ceiling fan, making a small puddle on the floor.

"Danny," Flack said.

Danny felt the panic settling into his chest as the message became loud and clear. He felt the rapid beating of his heart, the tightening on his chest. The room darkened. He felt dizzy. He couldn't breathe. The oxygen wasn't reaching his lungs. He tried to breath deeper, tried to get more air into his lungs, but it only caused him to panic more.

"Danny," Flack yelled his name, moving toward him.

"What's wrong with him?" called Lindsay as she ran back into the apartment.

"I think he's having a panic attack," answered Flack as he grabbed his friend under the arms and pulled him backward. With Lindsay's help they were able to get him outside into the hallway were he fall to the floor. Flack bent down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, talking quietly to him to calm him down. Lindsay disappeared and returned with a cup of water. She handed it to Flack who offered it to Danny. He took it, his hands shaking. He took a sip before dropping the cup. He couldn't stay here. He had to get out, to get away from the message left for him. On trembling legs he made his way down the hallway, seeking out the fresh air of the cold November day.

"Is he going to be okay?" Lindsay whispered, turning her troubled eyes on Flack.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know what's wrong with him."


	14. Missing

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Fourteen: Missing**

Flack poured himself a cup of the office coffee. It never tasted nearly as good as the stuff at the crime lab but it was all he had for the morning. If he hadn't been running late he would have stopped to grab a cup from his favorite corner vendor. Taking the steaming mug back to his desk he sat down, preparing himself to fill out reports until he was called to a crime. The recent influx in crimes the last few days had left the detectives busier than usual. The patrol officers were rarely seen around the precinct, unless they were bringing someone in for questioning or booking. Flack had gotten little done himself in the last few days. He still had to file initial reports on the drowning at the aquarium and the murder from yesterday. He wanted to get them down before Danny or Lindsay called him asking for his company while the returned to the scene or interviewed a suspect. He hoped it would be Danny that would call on him.

He wanted to see him, to make sure that he was okay after yesterday's tiny meltdown. Seeing Danny always made his day a little brighter. He wished he could get some time alone with the young investigator so that they could talk. He wanted to know where they stood, what their status was; friends or more? Danny expressed his fear, his feelings but never really made it clear what he wanted. And Flack wanted to ask him about the ring. What had Danny done with it?

Turning on his computer he took a final sip of his coffee before losing himself in the process of the reports. An hour passed before he finished them. There hadn't been any calls from the crime lab, but he didn't let worry settle in. They were probably still working on the evidence that Lindsay had collected. Bored, he began to work on filing reports for the patrol officers. In the last few days there had been twenty robberies, sixteen purse snatchings, two rapes, one case of vandalism, and the four murders. Flack could have sworn the city was falling apart before his very eyes. He had never seen it so bad. Maybe there was a full moon or something was up with the tides. Something had to be making these people go crazy.

An half hour before lunch time Stella walked into the precinct. She wasn't the scientist Flack was expecting to see. Then again, it was possible that she was here to see the detective that had been assigned to her case. Flack did most of the initial ground work on a case before it was handed off to another detective. At the rate things were going they were going to have to promote a few of the patrol officers to detectives. Grabbing his coffee mug he found that the last sip of coffee had gone cold. He was standing to get another cup when Stella stopped by his desk.

"Well, who do I owe for the pleasure of your visit?" he asked her, flashing her a smile.

She didn't look at all happy. "Have you seen Danny?"

"Not today," he replied with a frown. "I actually expected him to have called me by now. What's up?"

She fell into the chair beside his desk. He settled back into his seat noticing for the first time the worry in her eyes. "How was he acting yesterday, after the incident at the crime scene? Did you see him last night?"

"Whoa, slow down, Stella," he said. "Let me answer at least one question before you ask twenty more. Now, I didn't see him after the panic attack. He went outside, left in the car, stranding Lindsay at the scene. I gave her a ride back to the lab. And no, I didn't see him last night. Why would I have?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please, I get paid to notice things, Don. I know there's something going on between the two of you. But that's not really why I'm here. Danny made it back to the lab yesterday afternoon. Mac sent him home. He hasn't told anyone besides me but he's really worried about Danny's mental health. He's afraid he may have to let Danny go if he doesn't pull his act together."

Flack looked at her in surprise. "I didn't realize things were that bad. He hasn't actually done much but yell at me and pace the floor of his apartment. You want to tell me why Lindsay wants to claw his eyes out?"

Stella quickly explained to him about the photos and the tape that lead to the false accusations. "I believe that was Tuesday. He didn't do it, though. I know he didn't."

"Tuesday?" Flack repeated. "That's the night he called me and accused me of nearly getting him killed." Stella looked at him in surprise. "He wouldn't tell me what happened but I knew something had to set him off. Do you want me to swing by and have a chat with him?"

"We can't find him," Stella finally said, her hands shaking.

"What do you mean?" Flack felt the flutter of panic in his chest.

"Mac sent me to his apartment this morning to see if he was okay to work today," she started explaining. "The lab can't afford to be one person short right now. So I went by his apartment and knocked for fifteen minutes. He never answered. I heard the dog barking, though. Mac tried calling his cell phone but he still hasn't answered. We don't have a key to his place. I thought I would see if you did, otherwise we'll just have to break the door down."

Flack shook his head as he stood up, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. "I don't have a key. Did you ask the landlord for a copy?" Together they walked outside into the cold day. A few flakes of snow were swirling in the air. The forecast called for an inch of snow before the day was done.

"He doesn't keep copy of the keys. The tenants return them before they move out," she said as they climbed into his car.

He gave her a reassuring smile, trying to believe that everything was okay when he knew that it wasn't true. Though it wasn't a real emergency Flack flipped on the siren, wanting to reach Danny's apartment as quickly as he could. He couldn't get rid of the nagging voice in his mind that said Danny had hurt himself. With luck they found a spot right in front of the building. Quietly they took the elevator to the tenth floor. Flack knocked on the door to Danny's apartment twice. There still wasn't any answer. He pushed Stella back and with one swift kick broke the lock on the door. He would have to make sure it was secured before leaving or Danny would kill him. As expected Danny wasn't there.

Stella picked something up from the coffee table as Flack petted the dog that was jumping at him for attention. She turned to Flack, holding up Danny's badge. "His gun isn't here."

"I'm going to notify dispatch, have them issue a missing persons, have the patrol officers keep an eye out for him," Flack said as he removed his cell phone from his pocket.


	15. Breathe No More

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Fifteen: Breathe No More**

The call came in at four in the morning the next day. Someone had found the body of a young man with glasses in the park while they were out jogging. Mac had swung by Flack's apartment to pick him up. When he relayed the message to the detective he saw the pain flash across his face before he excused himself to get changed. Mac told him that he would be waiting downstairs in the car. Ten minutes later Flack stumbled out of his warm apartment into the darkness of the earlier morning. He climbed into the back seat when he saw that Stella was sitting on the passenger side. She looked like she had been crying. No one said anything as they pulled away from the curb into the morning traffic. Even at this time of day the roads were busy as people got an early start to the day. When ten minutes passed Flack couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Do you really think it's him?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.

"The description wasn't the best but it sounds like it could be," Mac answered him honestly. A sob escaped Stella.

"What about the others, do they know yet?" He stared at the window watching the city pass them by. He didn't want to reach the crime scene. He didn't want to gaze down on the body that could very well be his friend, the man he loved. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the ring, slipping it on his finger. It gave him comfort. He didn't care if the others noticed it. Let them ask their questions. No one said he had to give them answers.

"No, they don't know anything," Mac told him as he took a right turn. "I didn't want them to worry. I wanted to be sure before I called them."

He nodded in understanding, though he was sure Mac couldn't see him. There was no reason to wake Lindsay or Hawkes this early in the morning and leave them worrying until the body was identified. It would only be hell on their nerves. He closed his eyes, thinking about the last time he had seen Danny. He had looked so broken, so lost and empty. If only he had gone over to his apartment that night, maybe they wouldn't be taking this ride. Tears slipped passed is eyelids, running down his cheeks. He thought of the warmth he'd felt that night he held Danny close. Their first kiss. This couldn't be it, this couldn't be the end of something that had barely just begun.

Why had he gone home that night? He spent that night cooking a meal for one while listening to the radio. The lyrics from a song ran through his mind bringing more tears to the surface. He heard the words as though they were being sung in his ear at the exact moment. _"On a prayer, in a song, I hear your voice and it keeps me hanging on. Raining down, against the wind. I'm reaching out till we reach the circle's end. When you come back to me again."_ He felt his heart breaking. They hadn't even seen the body but to him the world had already stopped. If the body wasn't Danny's, then where was he?

The car stopped. Mac climbed out first, going around back to his kit. Stella was next to get out of the car but she remained by the door, afraid to venture forward without the others. Flack dried his eyes before stepping out to join her. She took one look at him, took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. He smiled at her but it wasn't a happy smile. Mac came around the car to join them, looking into the lost eyes of the detective. When Flack looked back he saw the realization sinking in. Mac knew the secret that he tried to keep locked away deep in his heart. He looked away, new tears threatening to fall.

As a group they walked together toward the body, a patrol officer had taped off the area and was waiting for them. Mac dismissed him with a wave of his hand. This was something the three of them needed to do in private. He could tell that Stella and Flack were minutes away from breaking down. As the body came into sight they realized that it wouldn't give them any immediate answers. The face was so disfigured that there was no way they could possibly make a positive identification.

Mac turned to Stella. "Call Hawkes and Lindsay, tell them to get to the lab immediately. But don't tell them why. Not just yet, okay?"

She nodded, letting go of Flack's hand. She was happy to get away from the body as she walked back toward the car, pulling her cell phone from her pocket. Mac placed his kit on the ground, crouching down to check the pockets for any form of identification. He came up empty handed just as he expected he would. He opened his kit to begin collecting evidence.

"It looks like him, Mac," Flack whispered hoarsely.

"We won't know for sure it is until we run the prints," he replied, making sure to photograph the scene before collecting the evidence.

"But the size, the clothes, the haircut, even the watch and the glasses look like Danny's," the detective muttered. He was barely able to keep the tears from falling again. Stella rejoined them. A grim expression on her face. Both Hawkes and Lindsay would be waiting at the lab, as would Sid. None of them knew what the emergency was about. With a sad sigh she stepped in and began to help Mac process the scene. Flack stood there watching them, trying desperately to find something that would tell him the body didn't belong to Danny. It just wasn't possible.

The coroner showed up just as they were finishing their job. With the body bagged and on the way to the lab they loaded their evidence into the car before following the black van. They didn't speak as the drove the streets, the sun beginning to lighten the sky. More people were out and about but none of them cared. All they could think about was the body. Back at the lab they found the others waiting. Lindsay was pacing, chewing on her thumb nail. Hawkes sat in a chair, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his legs. Sid was beside him, watching Lindsay pace. He was the first one to see them.

"Why the early phone call, Mac?" he asked, jumping to his feet. "And why do the three of you look like hell?"

Lindsay looked at them, studying their expressions. She stepped back into Hawkes who placed his hands on her hips to help steady her. "Where's Danny? He's okay, isn't he?" She closed her eyes. "Oh god, I saw the coroner drive by. Is Danny-"

"We don't know for sure that it's him," Mac answered her softly. "We have to run the prints. Hawkes, I want you to do that. Sid, help the coroner with the body. I want an autopsy started as soon as possible. The rest of us will wait in my office until the prints have been identified."

Sid looked at his boss. "Mac, I'm not one to normally question you but would it be okay if I waited with you? I want to know if…" he just trailed off. Mac nodded in sympathy. Handing the prints to Hawkes the rest of them headed for Mac's office. Flack and Sid let the girls take the extra chairs. Mac sat behind his desk. In silence they waited. The ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound. Minutes felt like hours as they waited for Hawkes to return. When he did he was carrying a piece of paper in his hands, his face hard to read. He opened the door and they all turned to him.

"I have good news and bad news," he said to them. "The good news is that prints weren't a match for Danny. The bad news, he's still missing."


	16. Sweet Sacrifice

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Sixteen: Sweet Sacrifice**

There was a collective sigh of relief as the news sunk in. Mac stood, beckoning for Hawkes to bring him the folder. "Who do they belong to?"

Hawkes handed him the folder. Sid excused himself, mumbling about going to perform the autopsy. Lindsay went to Hawkes, who hugged her, holding her close. Flack felt a stab of pain as he witnessed their affection for each other. Would he ever get to hold Danny like that? Would he ever get to see Danny again? Stella watched Mac as he studied the information on the paper in front of him. She bit her lip, curious about the dead body that closely resembled her missing friend. Stepping up behind her Flack placed a hand on her shoulder for comfort. They had come close to losing someone they cherished. The pain was still fresh, still raw.

Stella couldn't take the silence anymore. "So, who the hell is it?" she asked Mac.

"His name is Giuseppe DeMario," he replied, handing the folder over to her. Flack looked over her shoulder. Inside was a picture of the dead guy. Alive the resemblance to Danny wasn't as strong as it was now that the guy was dead. That would explain why they disfigured the face. Stella took a quick look at the picture before handing it back to Mac. Something about the photo had upset her.

"Stella, if you know something about this guy, I want to hear it now," ordered Mac, noticing the same thing that Flack had. The others waited quietly. Sid still hadn't left. He was standing by the office door. No one objected to his being there.

She shook her head. "I promised him I wouldn't say anything, Mac. He made me promise to never tell you, to never let you find out."

"Who?" Lindsay asked, wiping a hand over her eyes to wipe away the remaining tears. She made no attempt to move away from Hawkes.

"Are you telling me this guy is connected to Danny?" Mac asked. Stella's silence was enough of an answer for him. He dropped the folder onto the desk. "It's honorable to respect a promise made to a friend, but Stella, you know as well as I do that this could be very important."

Flack squeezed his shoulder. "Danny will forgive you. He'll understand. Trust me."

She looked into his blue eyes, searching for answers that weren't there. Finally she turned back to Mac. "The other day when Lindsay and Hawkes got mad at him, remember how I told you that he couldn't have done it? That he wasn't in any way responsible for the picture or the tape?"

Mac nodded. "Yes, and I believed you."

Stella reached into the pocket of her pants and withdrew a folded piece of paper. "He showed this to me that day, right after leaving your office. He didn't show it to you because he didn't want you to ever find out about it. He only showed it to me because he wanted to clear his name." She handed the paper to him. "It was under his badge when Flack and I went to his apartment. I took it. I know that it was wrong but I wasn't sure of what to do with it at the time. I'm sorry, Mac."

Mac looked at it, his eyes taking in every detail in a matter of minutes. Without a word he handed it to Flack who took it with a shaky hand. This had to have been what upset Danny that day. In his hands he held the straw that broke the camel's back. Looking down at the picture he felt nauseated. "Now I know why he freaked out at that crime scene," he said mostly to himself.

In the picture Danny was younger, maybe nineteen or twenty. He was sitting unconscious and covered in blood in a chair. To his left was Sonny Sassone. To his right was Giuseppe DeMario. Both of them were grinning. The body lying on the floor before them was identical in every way to the body in the apartment from two days ago. Every cut was the same, every stab placed in the exact same spot. Even the way the body had been presented was the same. Flack folded the picture up and threw it on Mac's desk. No one reached for it. He heard Stella telling Mac that she didn't know anything about the picture. All he could think about was Danny and whether or not he was safe. Sonny Sassone was in jail. Giuseppe DeMario was on a slab in the morgue. That left the person who took the picture. How would they ever find out who it was? Could it be that they had Danny?

Mac ordered Sid to the morgue to get the autopsy under way. Hawkes was to accompany him and retrieve whatever evidence was found that they'd missed at the crime scene. Stella and Lindsay were to process everything that had been bagged and tagged at the scene. He wanted Flack to help him find any and every scrap of information they could about the dead person in the picture. Maybe it held clues to Danny's current whereabouts. They parted ways, each one going off to do the tasks presented to them.

Mac and Flack spent hours pouring over old police records and death reports looking for anything they could find on the body. They didn't find a single thing. Not one report, not one file. The victim in the picture remained unidentified, the body never having been picked up. The Tanglewood Boys had most likely disposed of it so no one would ever find it. Flack suggested they visit Sonny but the idea was turned down. Mac didn't want Sonny to know anything about the picture until they had more information about it. The hours dragged on. The day gradually gave way to night and they continued to work. When the clock hit nine-o-clock at night they trudged to the break room for a quick dinner. Stella and Lindsay were already inside. They didn't have anything of significant value to offer. Another ten minutes passed before Hawkes came into the room. He looked ashen.

"Sid found bullets in the body," he said, not even waiting for anyone to ask him a question. "They were fragmented having played ping-pong with a few bones. I spent the day putting both of them back together as best I could so that I could run them. I got a match." He handed the folder to Mac.

"Are you sure of this, Hawkes?" he asked after reading the results.

"I ran them three times, Mac. The results were always the same."

He closed the folder and placed it on the table. He looked at everyone. "I'm sorry to say that Danny has gone from a missing person to our number one suspect."


	17. Forever Gone, Forever You

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Seventeen: Forever Gone, Forever You**

Flack tossed and turned, the blankets twisting around him. His dreams, his nightmares, kept him from sleeping peacefully. He kept seeing Danny covered in blood, falling from the deck of a yacht into the waiting water below. He knew the image wasn't right but he couldn't figure out what was wrong with it. The dream faded only to be replaced by one equally confusing. Danny had been the body they found in the park, no longer disfigured, bullet holes in his chest. Flack stood above him, gun in hand, blood on his hands. Mac walked toward him speaking words that he couldn't hear. He felt the handcuffs as they were placed on his wrists. The gun falling from his hand landed on the ground where the body had been, but now wasn't. With a start he woke up, the blankets twisted around his legs, sweat covering his body in a thin layer.

When he managed to free himself from the blankets he wandered into the bathroom to take a piss. After that he walked back into this bedroom. He gave the bed with its tangled blankets one last look before heading into the main part of his apartment. The idea of going back to sleep just wasn't appealing to him. Instead he turned on the kitchen light. Sleeping in the middle of the floor was Danny's dog. He'd brought the dog home with him the day that Danny went missing. He didn't feel right leaving the pooch behind in an empty apartment. It also helped to know that Danny loved the dog. Having the dog around gave him comfort, like wearing the ring. He looked down at his hand. The ring was still there on his finger where he put it earlier today. Had it really only been earlier today? It seemed more like ages ago. Grabbing a bottle of water he shut off the kitchen light and tried navigating his apartment in the dark. He whacked his shin on the coffee table before falling on the couch.

There he sat, in the dark, drinking his water. He thought about the day that had just passed in hopes of forgetting the dreams he'd been having. Danny was a suspect in a murder investigation. Danny was still missing. He ran a hand through his already tousled hair. Where was the missing investigator? Was he running from his past, from the crime he had committed? No, he shook his head, he wasn't responsible for that man's death. It wasn't who Danny was, it wasn't like him. He finished his bottle of water. The pale orange numbers on his cable box told him that it was after one in the morning. There were too many hours left in the night. He would have to try sleeping again.

Getting up from the couch to stumble back to bed he once again whacked his shin on the coffee table. His cursing was so loud that he nearly missed the soft knock at his door. At first he thought it was his imagination playing tricks on him. But there it was again. He looked at the door like it held the answer to who was on the other side and would tell him. The third knock was a little louder. Reaching over to flip on the overhead light he unlocked the door. There was a baseball bat near the door if he needed it. Opening the door he found Danny standing in the hallway. He rubbed his eyes thinking that he was hallucinating.

"Flack…" Danny's voice sounded tired.

Flack reached out, grabbing him and pulling him into the apartment. He slammed the door. Turning to Danny he got a better look at him in the light of the apartment. His hair was messed up, his shirt torn. There was a cut on his left cheek and an ugly bruise had formed around it. With a gentle touch Flack ran his hand over it. Danny flinched. The response was enough to keep him from gathering Danny into a loving embrace. They stood there, regarding each other quietly. There were so many questions that he wanted to ask, so many answers that he needed. It was up to Danny as to what would happen at this point.

"I…" he tried to say only to have the words catch in his throat.

"Danny-"

"I'm sorry," he finally choked out. Flack could see the honesty and the genuine remorse in Danny's eyes. And if there was one thing he'd learned since meeting Danny Messer, while his mouth was known to say one thing, the one place he could never lie was in his eyes. His eyes held every truth and whether it was intentional, Danny had let Flack in and Flack could see everything with that one look. The pain of loss. The confusion of a troubled mind. More prominent was the burning desire to be loved.

Flack took a step toward him. "I've been worried sick about you," he said. He was dying to reach out and touch him, to draw him close and never let him go.

Danny didn't say anything in return. He just stood there holding himself, mixed emotions running across his face. Flack couldn't hold back the urges anymore. He reached out, running the knuckles of his left hand softly along Danny's uncut cheek. He opened his hand, cupping Danny's cheek. Danny leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. Flack carefully pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him. Danny welcomed the embrace, holding tightly to the detective.

"You scared me," Flack mumbled. "Don't ever runoff like that again, you hear me? I thought I'd lost you for good, forever. I couldn't bear the thought of you being gone, Danny. It broke my heart."

"I'm sorry," Danny sobbed, his body shaking as he cried. "I didn't know what to do, I was so confused. I wanted to run to you but I wouldn't have known what to say. Everything has gotten so far out of control. And I'm tired, so tired."

Flack gently pushed him away until they were a few inches apart. "Why don't you take a nice long hot shower and then you can go to bed? We'll talk when you've rested."

Danny bit his bottom lip but nodded in agreement. Having been to Flack's apartment before he knew where the bathroom was and made his way to it. While he bathed Flack made a quick call to Mac who, at first, was not happy to be awoken at such an early hour. However, the detective heard the relief in his voice at the news of Danny's return. Flack was warned that Danny would have to go into the lab the next day and be interviewed on the death of Giuseppe DeMario. Flack assured the lab boss that he'd bring the young investigator by as soon as he woke up. Their conversation lasted ten minutes. Danny's shower lasted twenty. When he stepped out of the shower he found a pair of pants and a T-shirt folded on the counter. Drying off, he put them on to find that they were a bit big on him. He didn't really care. It was nice to be somewhere warm. Looking in the mirror he saw the cut on his cheek. It wasn't deep but it looked awful. The bruise under it was turning purple, the very middle of it was more of a black. He had been marked good.

Flack was leaning against the doorframe between the bedroom and the rest of the apartment when Danny exited the bathroom. The bed had been made. It looked warm and inviting. As he thought about falling asleep alone the panic started to grow. He didn't want to be alone. He was tired of being alone. It was cold. With a reassuring smile Flack walked to the other side of the bed.

"I'll stay with you, don't worry, Danny-boy," he said softly. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."


	18. Weight of the World

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Eighteen: Weight of the World**

It was nearly noon before Danny even began to stir. Flack was sitting in the living room when there was a knock on the door. As he got up to answer it he heard the shower start. He couldn't blame Danny for wanting to shower again. Realizing that he had stopped to think about the investigator he remembered that someone was at the door, and they wanted admittance. Their banging had grown louder. He went to the door, undoing the locks, and pulled it open. Mac stood there, a flash of relief in his eyes.

"I thought you had left for work," he said, stepping into the apartment and removing his gloves. He shoved them into the pockets of his jacket.

"No, I told my boss that I wasn't going to be in today," Flack replied as he closed the door quietly. "I would have brought Danny to the lab but he just now got up and he's taking a shower. Is it okay if I join the interview?"

Mac removed his coat, draping it on the arm of the couch. "That would be fine, Flack. He ran to you, so he's comfortable here. What I have to do isn't going to be easy, and technically, I should be interviewing him down at the police station. You're my witness," he stated, looking directly at Flack. "I need you to remain objectionable to the situation. Treat this like any other interview. Put your personal feeling aside. Do you think you can do that?"

Flack chewed his bottom lip. Would he be able to stand by quietly while Mac attacked Danny with question after question? He didn't think he could. But there was no way he was going to leave the two of them alone. Mac had said it himself, Danny ran to him. Flack couldn't keep down the happy feeling that Danny had run to him. Maybe he'd made up his mind.

"I think I can do that," he answered, sitting on the couch.

They made small talk as they waited for Danny to make his appearance. Neither one of them was looking forward to the task at hand. It had to be done. Danny was their main suspect in the death of Giuseppe DeMario. It didn't matter if they knew he wasn't capable of murder. This was procedure. They had to follow protocol. Flack went into the kitchen and returned with a tape recorder in hand. He wanted as much evidence as possible that things were done right. This could all quickly backfire and blow up in their faces. Taping the conversation would help, at least. Mac nodded his approval as he set the tape recorder on the coffee table.

Danny walked into the living room. "Mac," he said, stopping in his tracks. He looked odd wearing a pair of Flack's sweat pants and one of his T-shirts. The clothes were a little big on him.

"Sit, Danny," Mac ordered, nodding toward the recliner. "We need to have a serious talk. I thought it would be better if we did it here. However, we can just as easily do it down at the precinct. The choice is yours to make."

Danny sank into the chair. There was fear in his eyes, but also a hint of confusion. "What is this about?"

"How do you know Giuseppe DeMario?" asked Mac after Flack flipped on the tape recorder.

Fear flashed in Danny's eyes at the mention of the dead man. He looked down at his hands in his lap. "He's a friend of Sonny Sassone. Why do you ask?"

Mac chose to ignore the question. "When was the last time you saw him?"

Danny looked at Flack trying to find a reason for the questioning. Flack turned away. It broke his heart but he wanted this done right. He wanted Danny to clear his name. He knew that the CSI wasn't responsible for the death. He refused to believe that Danny would murder someone.

"I haven't seen him for some time now." He chewed his bottom lip. "It was a few years ago. Last time I saw him he was picking up my brother and-"

"I know about the picture, Daniel," Mac said quietly. Danny flinched at the mention of the photo. "I need you to come clean with me. I can't help you unless I know what's going on."

Danny looked at his boss. Would it be alright to tell him? The man sitting before him was like a father to him. Mac had his back before, why wouldn't he have it now, when the truth came out? He wasn't guilty. There was no reason for him to hide anymore. He chanced a glance in Flack's direction. The detective was studying him, pleading with his eyes. He wanted Danny to come clean too. With a sigh he relaxed into the chair. It was now or never.

"I was only twenty when that happened," he started. The memory was fresh in his mind. "Sonny and Giuseppe picked me up after my last class that day. I didn't want the ride but they didn't give me a choice in the matter. They drove to some warehouse. Sonny threatened to hurt my brother unless I accompanied them inside, so I went with them." He stopped. The memory was vivid, as though it had happened just yesterday. He recalled the smell of rotting cardboard as he stepped through the warehouse door. He could hear the seagulls as the looked for an easy meal. "They made me watch," he whispered, tears falling from his eyes. "They made me watch as they tortured that guy. As they cut his skin with a switchblade. Giuseppe used a potato peeler to-" he trailed off, not wanting to say the words. They'd seen the body from the recent crime scene two blocks away. They would know what had happened. "They told me that if I ever muttered a word that they would kill my mother and my brother. I swore to them that I wouldn't say a thing. Sonny insisted on taking the picture. He said that it was his insurance policy."

"You look passed out in the photo," Mac stated after a few seconds of silence.

Danny nodded. "Sonny thought it would look great. He said that if I ever talked he would show the photo to the authorities and say that I did it while I was drunk. I'm sorry, Mac. I should have gone to the police. I should have told someone but I was scared. You know as well as I do that Sonny is a man of his word. He would have hurt them."

Mac put his hand up. "Danny, listen to me. I need to know who the third party was, who took the picture?"

"Some guy with a scar over his right eye," he replied trying to remember the other guy. "He's a member of the Tanglewood Boys. He had the tattoo, I remember seeing it. They never said his name though and I don't recall seeing him before that night. Why are asking me about this?"

"Where is your service revolver?" Mac asked instead of answering Danny's question.

"It should be in my locker…no, wait, I brought it home with me the other night," he answered. He had placed the gun on the counter by the kitchen sink when he went to get a drink. "I left it on the counter. Why are you asking me about my gun, Mac?"

"Giuseppe DeMario turned up dead yesterday morning. Ballistics says it was your gun that killed him," replied Mac, massaging the back of his neck. "I need to know where you disappeared to the other day."

"I went out of the city. I needed to get away from everything," Danny told them. "There were a lot of people at the hotel where I stayed. I have the receipt from my stay, paid in cash. Someone there should be able to vouch for me. I was there the entire time."

"And the cut on your cheek?" Flack questioned, finally speaking up.

"I got into a bar fight with some guy. He said I was looking at him 'funny'," remarked Danny with distaste.

Mac stood, shutting off the tape recorder and putting it in his pocket. "I need the name of the hotel where you stayed to corroborate your alibi. If that checks out, this tape and the writing sample on the photo given to Lindsay will be enough to clear your name."

"Writing sample?" Danny echoed, looking at his boss.

"When you took off and DeMario's body was found with bullets from your gun I had to cover my ass," Mac explained as he slipped into his jacket. "No jury was going to believe that you didn't send that photo on my word alone. Now I know for a fact that you had nothing to do with it. Both Hawkes and Lindsay should be apologizing for their accusations."

Mac left, making sure Danny knew that if he returned to work he was on 'desk duty'. He wasn't allowed out into the field until they tracked down the photographer. He should have felt relieved to have the weight of the world off his shoulders. But he couldn't relax. Someone had his gun. Someone had been in his apartment. It wasn't safe to go home. Where was he going to stay?


	19. Heart Shaped Box

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Nineteen: Heart Shaped Box**

Danny opted to stay with Stella. He felt bad about turning down Flack's offer to stay but he didn't feel it was right. He was still trying to figure out how he felt about the detective and living in close quarters would cloud his judgment. It was better to stay with a friend, someone he had no romantic feelings for. Stella opened her doors to him, welcoming him into her apartment like only a concerned friend could. He welcomed the warmth with which her apartment was filled with. After the incident with her boyfriend Danny had thought she would move but she stayed, refusing to give up her home because of one bad thing. He wasn't sure it would work out the same way for him. Someone linked to Sonny had a key to his apartment. The place wasn't safe to return to. Even if they did find the intruder there was no way of knowing if the guy made copies of the key. Danny would have to find a new home. Or get is locks changed. How had they gotten a copy of his key in the first place? The question made him shudder. He didn't really want to know the answer. For now he was content to sleep on Stella's couch.

At the moment he was walking the halls of the lab on his way to the morgue to get some information from Sid. It didn't bother him that he wasn't allowed to work the field. It gave him the chance to work solely on his chosen craft; forensic science. He felt like a kid in a candy store. Working the field was a privilege but sometimes it was fun to just work in the lab. After all, that's where the mysteries were really solved. All day he had been running samples of this and that, comparing fingerprints, and sketching crime scenes from the photos he was presented. The drowning case had been solved. There was a suspect in interrogation for the murder of the vet. It was a good day, work wise.

He hummed softly to himself; the name of the song unknown to him. He spotted Lindsay walking toward him and felt his good mood waver a bit. "Hey, Montana," he said in a friendly voice.

"Danny," she smiled. "I'm so glad that I finally found you. Look, I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. But seeing that picture, seeing that someone had violated my privacy, I let my emotions get the best of me. I'm really sorry. No hard feelings?"

"No hard feelings," he assured her. "I just hope that next time you'll give me the benefit of the doubt first. We are supposed to have each other's backs after all."

Surprising him, she linked her arm through his and walked with him. "That was wrong of me. It's just, I'm not really at a point where I want to discuss what happened back in Montana. You could say that the emotional wounds are still healing."

"It's alright, Lindsay," Danny said, wishing she would change the topic.

He didn't want to think about the last few days. He had been enjoying his good mood, trying to think positive. Even though some lunatic was running around with his gun. Mac had checked his alibi as soon as he returned to the lab yesterday. The man that Danny had gotten into the bar fight with was more than happy to be an alibi. As was the bartender and a few of the waitresses. He had spent little time in his room while at the hotel, opting instead to park himself in the bar. Not necessarily to get drunk but just to be around the people, to let their chatter become background noise. The tiny vacation did little to help with his problems but it had been nice to get away. He realized that Lindsay was rambling on and he hadn't heard a word she said.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" he asked, thinking he'd heard her say Flack's name.

She smiled at him and rolled her eyes. "I asked how things were going between you and Flack. Are you two, you know, getting along good?"

The question baffled him. He stopped walking to look at her. "What do mean? Do you know something that I don't?"

She seemed taken aback by his question. "I thought, I mean…you got the ring, didn't you?"

"So you two were working together," mused Danny, his suspicion finally confirmed. "What's going on, Montana?"

"I found Flack in the locker room that day and I was curious about what he was doing," she said, not even caring if Flack had meant for their actions of that day to be a secret. "He tried to tell me some lame story and when he saw that I didn't believe him he told me about the ring. It was so cute. He blushed, his cheeks turning the color of fall leaves. Kind of like yours are now," she giggled. "I don't see the ring on your finger, but Flack doesn't wear his to work either. He said he didn't want to answer the questions people would ask about it. You know, it's the same exact ring that he gave you."

Danny looked at her as though she had two heads. "I was not aware of any of that. Yes, I got the ring but Flack hasn't said a word about it. I didn't want to bring it up because I thought maybe you had given it to me."

That made Lindsay laugh. "As flattered as I am, Danny, I don't think of you like that. Though it's clear that Flack does. You two really need to sit down and talk. If you haven't brought up the ring imagine how he feels, what thoughts are running through his mind. He loves you, Danny. Anyone could see it. They just have to see him look at you. It's written in his eyes."

Her phone rang at the moment and she excused herself. Danny, shaking his head, continued on his mission to the morgue. Sid was his usual creepy self when he asked for the information that Mac had sent him to retrieve. When he got all that he could from the coroner Danny called his boss, filling him in on the specifics. Mac thanked him before hanging up. His stomach growled signaling the fact that lunch time had rolled around. If the others weren't busy maybe they could have lunch together. He wandered the halls of the lab looking for them but found out that they were all out at various scenes. Sighing, refusing to let his good mood completely vanish, he walked to the locker room. He would grab his coat and go out to lunch by himself. He deserved the meal. The morning work had kept him busy. The break would be nice. Thinking about his conversation with Lindsay, and whistling the tune he had been humming earlier, he popped open his locker door. The whistle died on his lips. Gingerly he removed the little heart shaped box from the top shelf of his locker. Looking around he found the locker room empty, just as it had been when he walked in a moment ago.

The box was small, fitting comfortably in his hand. A tiny silver bow had been placed on it. There was no name, no card. Carefully he lifted the lid. A scrap of folded paper sat atop a key. He unfolded the paper and smiled. The note was in Flack's writing and simply said, _"When you're ready"._


	20. Cloud Nine

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Twenty: Cloud Nine**

The workday drew to a close with a cheer. There was a slow down in the crime spree that had been gripping the city. The detectives weren't running themselves ragged anymore. Flack was able to return home at a decent hour. Danny's dog, Widget, had given him quite the greeting, wagging his tail, barking, and placing his paws on Flack's legs. The dog was so cute that he picked him up and gave him a thorough rub down. He had been more than happy to keep the dog when Danny asked him, even if it hurt to know that the other man would rather stay with Stella instead of him. Eventually Danny would come around. Until then, he was just going to have to wait and take what he could get. If that meant pet-sitting, than so be it. It wasn't like Widget was a terror on four legs. The dog spent most of the time sleeping. Widget wasn't the same dog Danny had picked up on the streets. He had put on weight, filling out. He had also gotten over his shyness, accepting Flack as a friend. A neighbor had told him the dog looked like a Basenji mix.

Flack walked into the kitchen and put Widget on the floor. The dog sat his curly tail wagging as he watched the detective fill his food dish and give him fresh water. Flack patted him on the head before leaving him to his nightly meal. He was going to ditch his work clothes for something more comfortable when there came a knock at the door. Frowning, as he had no clue who would be calling on him, he went to the door.

"I would have used this," Danny said, holding up the key, "but I didn't want to surprise you."

Flack smiled, stepping aside to let him in. His reply was cut-off as Widget came running into the room, barking. He raced up to Danny, a wiggling ball of fur. Flack laughed. "You'd better pay attention to him. I made the mistake of ignoring him last night and he followed me around the apartment like a four-legged shadow."

Danny pocketed the key before bending down to pick up the excited dog. "I'm sorry about leaving him here with you. I would have asked Stella about it but I didn't want to be any more of burden to her." He scratched behind the dog's floppy Collie-like left ear. His right ear stuck straight up giving the dog a funny look.

"It's no problem," Flack said, undoing his tie. "I love having him around. He's the most well behaved dog I've ever seen. Plus, it's nice to have the company. I like having someone to come home to. Even if it is only for a little while."

"About that," Danny said, putting Widget down. The dog bolted back to the kitchen to finish his meal. He didn't like to leave any of his meals untouched, afraid that the food would be taken away. "I wanted to talk to you. About the key."

"What about it?" Flack asked as he walked toward his bedroom unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He smiled softly when he realized that Danny was following him, much the way Widget had the night before.

"Why? Why did you give it to me?"

Flack turned around. His shirt was completely unbuttoned and hanging open. Danny could see the scar from the bomb explosion. Without realizing it he crossed the space between them. He reached out, lightly brushing his fingertips along the scar, tracing the pattern it had left. Flack felt the familiar stirrings in his groin as Danny touched him, arousing him. "I gave it to you in hopes that you would realize that this apartment is as much my home as it is yours," he whispered.

He looked at Danny who looked back at him with an expression that was unreadable. Danny stepped closer, never breaking eye contact. Heat washed through his body as he placed a hand behind Flack's head and pulled him close for a kiss. Their lips met in a hungry kiss, Danny licking his way into Flack's mouth. It felt right, the ember that was growing into a raging fire between them. He thought about the night in his apartment when Flack had pushed him against the wall. He wanted to feel Flack's hands on him, to be touched by the man that made him feel so confused inside. As though reading his mind Flack placed his hands on Danny's hips, brushing them upward under his shirt until they touched bare skin. Danny let out a strangled whimper.

Flack pulled away. Danny's eyes were closed and heat flushed his throat and face. Flack slowly removed his shirt, wanting to know if the blush traveled through to the rest of his body. He felt Danny's breathing hitch and licked gently at the skin on Danny's chest.

"I don't want to wait anymore," Danny admitted, kissing Flack with a passion that swept him off of his feet. They stood in the center of his room, languidly kissing each other, and slowly stripping each other of their clothes. The moonlight played across their bare bodies. Flack felt the cool metal of the ring Danny had been wearing around his neck when he pulled him closer. It sent a new wave of heat through his body to know that the ring had meant something to Danny, too. He excused himself, mumbling lost words into the nape of Danny's neck. Detaching himself he walked into the bathroom, closing the door partially. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the counter of the sink, trying to catch his breath. He hadn't meant for this to happen when he left the key in Danny's locker, though a small part of him had been hoping it would turn out this way. He had to prepare himself for a let down incase Danny changed his mind.

Having made up his mind he switched off the light and stepped into the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway. Danny was on the bed stroking his erection with confidence and complete ease.

"You were taking too long. I was getting restless," Danny said without opening his eyes.

"Please stop," Flack ordered as he walked across the room. Flack climbed onto the bed which caused Danny to speed up his movements. Flack leaned in, physically removing Danny's hand from his erection. The temptation was too great. Without stopping to even think about the consequences, he leaned down and slid Danny's erection between his lips, licking the heated organ with delight. Danny arched his back, yelping in pleasure. His fingers slid into Flack's hair.

Flack moaned around Danny, taking him as deep as he possibly could. The motion sent vibrations throughout Danny's entire body. Danny whimpered, following it with a moan of pure pleasure. He reached his orgasm, shooting deep into Flack's throat. He fought to swallow everything. Flack pulled off gasping for breath as Danny collapsed back into the mattress, dazed and breathing heavily.

"I…I wasn't expecting that," Danny whispered after a moment.

Flack shook his head. "Danny, I…we…you…" He scowled as he tried to find the right words to say what he wanted to say.

Danny smiled at him, finding the scowl sexy. He pulled Flack down to him, kissing him, tasting himself in Flack's mouth. He slid a ring onto Flack's hand. "I found this lying on the nightstand," he said when they broke the kiss.

Flack looked down at it. Looking back at Danny he realized that he was no longer wearing the chain around his neck. Instead, he saw the familiar sparkle on Danny's left ring finger. Danny wrapped a firm hand around Flack's erection. The sensation nearly brought the detective to an instant orgasm.

"If we need to," Danny whispered, "we can both call in sick tomorrow."


	21. Listen to The Rain

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Twenty-One: Listen to the Rain**

When he rolled over in the bed he let his arm reach out, searching for the warm body that he'd fallen asleep beside. Only the other side of the bed lay empty. Flack opened his eyes, gazing at the spot where Danny had fallen asleep just hours ago. The blanket was pulled back, the sheets exposed. Danny wasn't there. Maybe he was taking a shower or making breakfast. He listened, hearing nothing but the whimpering of Widget as he dreamed in his sleep. Danny wasn't in the apartment. Sitting up, Flack swung his legs over the side of the bed and just sat there. When had he left, and why hadn't he said anything? He got up to take a shower, the ring still on his finger. A few hours ago it felt right. Now it felt like a sore reminder. Slowly he got dressed. He vaguely remembered feeding the dog before grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment, locking the door behind him.

He would have thought last night was a dream if he had not woken up wearing the ring. He never wore it to bed. Instead, he always placed it on the nightstand and slipped it into his pocket each morning. No, last night had happened and Danny had left without as much as a note. He pulled the band of metal from his finger and placed it in is pocket. He didn't need the extra help in remembering the blissful hours they spent wrapped up in each others arms. He sat at his desk letting the morning hours pass while he filled out reports in hopes that being busy wouldn't allow him to think of anything else. It worked, for the most part. He had thrown himself into his work, forgetting about the team of scientists all together. That was, until his phone rang.

Someone had found a body.

Sighing, knowing that the call had also been sent to the lab, he pulled on his coat and headed out into the cold weather. The sun was visible fooling the people inside into believing that it was warmer than it actually was outside. He hated the winter months. He hated the cold. Why did he stay in the city? For the same reason he kept doing his job even when things got really bad. Danny. He frowned as a picture of the younger man flashed in his mind. He didn't know what to think anymore. He wanted to think positive. Perhaps Danny had left early to return home so that he could shower and change into something fresh. Yet, this nagging feeling that everything had gone wrong persisted, making him feel worried.

When he got to the crime scene he found two patrol officers busily holding back the growing crowd. The great American bystander, he thought as he climbed from his vehicle. The lab had already sent people over and he could see two bodies at the end of the alley processing the crime scene. Mac breezed by without saying a word, a grim look on his face. With his hands in his pockets he followed after him. He would have to gather information from potential witnesses and the two patrol officers but he wanted to see the crime scene. He wanted to know what he was working for. As he drew closer he realized that the two CSI's that had arrived before him were Danny and Stella.

Danny.

He stopped dead in his tracks. There was no way he was going to go down there. He couldn't. Stella and Mac would know that something was up instantly. He opted to start gathering names and statements. Let the scientists do their jobs. He had other things to worry about. Returning to the sidewalk he talked to one officer and then the other. He began to talk with the witnesses. Few of them had seen or heard anything. Most of them were just curios about seeing a dead body. He had the misfortune of looking over his shoulder and spotting Danny when the coroner's van rolled up. Danny looked at him for merely a second before turning away. Flack had not been able to read his expression. Before he could watch Danny drive away he turned and headed back down the alley. With luck he found that Stella was still there.

"What's wrong?" she asked the moment she saw him.

He blinked. "What are you talking about? Nothing is wrong."

"You're a bad liar, Flack," she said. "I saw the way you stopped as you came down the alley earlier. You weren't expecting to run into Danny. Well, don't worry about it. He's no longer part of the case."

"Why?" he asked, worried that maybe Mac had been right to worry about Danny's mental health.

"The dead man is one Dante Giovanni," explained Stella as she closed up her kit. "Also known as the missing photographer, the man with the scare. Danny identified him immediately as the man from a few years ago. It looks like Dante died from an accident but we'll have to wait until Sid is done with his autopsy." Flack had nothing to say in response. He was happy that the third man was dead, and he shouldn't have been. Life was a precious thing. "Flack, what is bothering you?"

"I think I messed up," he admitted. "I think I let things go too far last night. We crossed the line and now everything has changed, and not in a good way."

They stayed in the alley and talked for an hour. No one came to bother them. No one called looking for them. Flack told her about Danny and the way he felt for him. He told her about their time together without going into detail. She expressed her sympathy trying to console him. It didn't work. Especially when he found out that Mac was being pressured to let Danny go and find a replacement. The city found him to be a liability. Even though he had been proven innocent his connection to recent dead bodies was making the city officials uncomfortable.

Flack went home with a heavier heart than he had when he left that morning. It didn't help matters that the beautiful sunny day had turned gray and rainy. The raindrops were as cold as ice as they fell from the sky. He dashed to his apartment building and slowly made his way upstairs. The only one to greet him when he opened the door was Widget. He gave him a loving pat before feeding him his dinner. Aside from a light in the kitchen he kept the place dark, like his mood. After changing into something dry and warm he went to sit by the window and look upon the city. Maybe he would start making plans to move. Maybe it was time to relocate and forget about Danny. It was time to let go. As he listened to the rain on his window he watched the people on the sidewalks below. Standing under a streetlight was a lone figure, not wearing a jacket or carrying an umbrella. He thought he was going crazy because it looked like Danny.

"It's just my mind playing tricks on me," he mumbled to the dark apartment. But the longer he sat there the more it began to sink in. That lone figure was Danny.


	22. Forgive Me

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Twenty-two: Forgive Me**

Flack threw on his still wet jacket and raced out of the apartment. Why was that crazy boy standing outside his apartment in this rain? He couldn't believe that it took him so long to realize that it was Danny. He couldn't leave him outside, not in this weather. He hoped that Danny had come to see him and was just battling a bad case of nerves. That could very well be the answer. After all, he hadn't been himself lately. The idea of falling in love seemed to scare him. Flack wanted to know who had brought pain and doubt to the other man, making him afraid of welcoming love. He took the stairs, not wanting to wait for the slow elevator. He raced outside, his eyes on Danny who was looking down at the ground, his arms crossed over his chest. Even from the distance of the building entrance he could see that Danny was shivering. He raced onto the sidewalk, not caring about the people he nearly ran into. He wanted to get to Danny. He should have paid more attention to what he was doing.

Someone shouted after him.

Danny looked up. Fear and panic filled his eyes.

He yelled Flack's name and started toward him.

There was the squeal of tires.

Flack looked up in time to see the car as it slid on the wet pavement.

Strong hands shoved him backward sending him flying out of the way of the car.

A woman screamed.

Flack sat up, brushing his hands on his already wet jacket. The car had stopped. The driver had climbed out from behind the wheel and pedestrians on the sidewalks started to gather. Someone yelled for another person to call an ambulance. Where was Danny? Flack looked at the crowd, searching faces for Danny. An older gentleman came to check on him, putting a hand on his shoulder and asking him questions. He didn't hear the man's words as the last few minutes replayed in his mind. Danny had spotted him and the car. Danny had started toward him.

"No," he whispered, catching the older man off guard. He pushed the man's hand away and scrambled for the center of the circle that was forming. "Danny," he yelled when he saw the crumpled form on the pavement. Someone grabbed him, trying to stop him from getting to his friend. He slipped out of his coat, falling to his knees beside Danny. He reached into his pocket and found with relief that his cell phone had survived the fall he'd taken. He dialed dispatch as more pedestrians tried to pull him away from Danny. "This is Detective Don Flack," he yelled into the phone. "I have an officer down. Repeat, I have an officer down."

The driver of the car began to sob, proclaiming that he couldn't have stopped in time. Mumbling something about people looking before they crossed the street. Flack quickly informed dispatch of his location. They assured him that units were on the way. He flipped his phone shut and dropped it to the ground. Danny was breathing but he wasn't conscious. His body was soaked from the cold rain. Flack remember that he'd seen him shivering and he began to worry that Danny would go into shock before the paramedics could arrive. He started yelling for something to get him a blanket or even a tarp, anything he could wrap around Danny to bring him some warmth.

Mac was walking down the street with Stella, an umbrella protecting them from the drive of the cold rain. They had just enjoyed a nice dinner together as friends. The others on the team didn't know that they had dinner together once a week. It was a tradition they had started in their first year of working together. As they walked they came upon the scene. People stood in the middle of the road blocking their view. Stella hadn't noticed the people. She was telling Mac about something and she laughed, her voice carrying on the wind. He heard someone yelling for blankets. He recognized the voice as Flack's. He shoved the umbrella into Stella's hand as the sound of sirens pierced the dreary night air. She looked up surprised as Mac ran toward the circle. She wasted no time in following him.

Flack looked up at the crowd. No one had moved to help him. They all stood there, afraid that if they moved it would be them lying on the pavement. He knew he was crying and he didn't care. He had already been in this position once. Danny had nearly died and he wasn't going to let it happen again. He couldn't. Surprise and relief passed through his body as he saw Mac push his way into the center of the circle. The lab boss took one look at the scene before removing his somewhat dry coat and placing it over Danny. Stella was quick to join them. She held the umbrella over them, keeping most of the rain off of Danny. The sirens drew nearer.

"What happened?" Mac asked Flack as he checked Danny's pulse.

"He…he," Flack choked on the words. Stella placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes trying to compose himself. He had been to many crime scenes. He could do this. "He saved me, Mac. He pushed me out of the way."

Everything after that happened so quickly. The paramedics came, pushing them away so that they could do their jobs. Stella wrapped an arm around Flack's and Mac placed a hand on his shoulder as they watched their colleague get loaded into an ambulance for the second time in a matter of weeks. Mac picked up Flack's cell phone from the pavement before ushering them all toward a police cruiser. The officer was more than happy to drive them to the hospital. Flack didn't remember anything that happened during the drive. He knew that Mac and Stella were asking him questions but he didn't bother to answer. He kept thinking about the accident. This time it was his fault, he realized. He had been in such a rush to get to Danny that he hadn't been paying attention. Danny was hurt and it was his fault. He closed his eyes, crying as they sped toward the hospital.

At the hospital Stella helped him walk to the emergency room. Hawkes and Lindsay were waiting inside, having been called by Mac. This time he felt the need to include them. Flack fell into one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. He remembered how he had fallen asleep in one of them not too long ago as he waited to hear if Danny survived nearly drowning. Now he felt like he was reliving that moment, the pain, the anguish. The heavy feeling of emptiness and loss. Stella sat beside him, taking his hand in hers and gripping it firmly. Hawkes comforted Lindsay on his other side. Mac went off in search of the doctor, in search of answers.

Flack closed his eyes and prayed that everything would work out. He would never forgive himself if Danny died saving him. That wasn't Danny's job. It was his. He was the one who was supposed to die saving lives. He bit his bottom lip, tears coursing down his cheeks. He remembered the way it had felt to fall asleep with Danny in his arms. He recalled Danny's smile, the mischievous look he got in his eyes when he was planning a practical joke or had just solved the answer to a murder. He saw Danny fall apart when Aidan died. He saw the scientist taking more and more risks in the days afterward. He saw the need for love in his eyes. He saw him trying to make sense of feelings that left him confused. He vowed to give up his love and pursuit of Danny if only he would live. He would let him live his life without pressure.

"What did the doctor tell you?" Stella asked when Mac returned.

Mac smiled. "He'll be fine. The car didn't do much damage, surprisingly. He's got a lot of soft tissue damage in his right leg and nasty laceration that will require stitches. He suffered a minor concussion when his head hit the pavement; which is why he was unconscious. The doctors expect him to make a full recovery. They say he's very lucky."


	23. The Only One

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Chapter Twenty-three: The Only One**

He was there a day and half later when Danny was released from the hospital. The doctor ordered him to take another day off and to do light work for a week afterward. The doctor warned Danny that he had called his boss so that he couldn't get away with any tricks. Flack was leaning against his car in the cold waiting for Danny. He smiled when he saw the CSI walking toward him. He hadn't been sure how Danny would react to seeing him, since this time it was his fault that the man was in the hospital in the first place. Flack straightened up, expecting to open the door for Danny. Instead Danny surprised him but stealing a kiss. His heart stopped when Danny's lips met his. He didn't think Danny would even be happy to see him, never mind grant him a kiss.

Danny pulled away, smiling. "There, that should give those nurses something to talk about."

Flack chuckled. They both climbed into the car. As he drove back to his place he tried to figure how to break the news to Danny that he wasn't going home. His apartment was still unsafe and at the moment, Stella's place was locked up tight. Widget would be happy to see Danny at least, so the dog was the winning party in the situation. They pulled up in front of Flack's apartment building. He turned the engine off and turned to Danny. The other man was staring out at the street. Flack hadn't even bothered to think about the consequences of bringing him this close to the scene of the accident. He was finding himself more and more forgetful when it came to Danny.

"Let's get you inside," he told him. "Get you settled in until Stella comes to pick you up when shift ends. I took the rest of the day off so could watch a movie or something."

Danny didn't say anything in reply. He just climbed from the car and headed for the building. Flack tried to ignore the stab of pain as he followed after him. This was the type of reaction he had been expecting. Danny had no right to be nice to him. He had nearly gotten him killed. Again. The ride in the elevator was quiet and uncomfortable. He wanted to reach out to Danny, to take him into his arms and tell him how happy he was that he was okay. But he decided that doing so would only drive the wedge between them further apart. Danny gave Widget a not-so-enthusiastic welcome when the dog ran up to him. Flack made sure to pay extra attention to the dog. Danny plopped down on the couch but made not attempt in turning on the TV. He just sat there staring off into space. Flack shook his head and decided it would be best to leave him alone. He went into his bedroom, tossing his suit jacket and tie onto this bed. He finished undressing in the bathroom and stepped into the shower. The water felt soothing on his skin. He stayed under longer than he probably should have.

Turning off the water he stepped out into the steamy bathroom. He wrapped a towel around his waster before opening the door and stepping into his bedroom. Danny was sitting on the bed, waiting for him.

"Don't blame your self," he said quietly. "I know that you think you're responsible but you aren't. The only one to blame is me. I pushed you out of the way on my own freewill. And you never would have been in harms way had I not been standing outside your apartment."

"Danny-"

He stopped when Danny put his hand up. "I wouldn't have been standing outside your apartment if I could just figure out the feelings that have been tormenting me since you gave me that ring. I just can't seem to make heads or tails of what I feel. I want to give everything to you; my body, my heart, my soul. But this fear keeps me from doing it."

"Danny, I don't know what's making you afraid of this," Flack said, walking over to him and sitting beside him on the bed. "But you need to know that I don't want anyone else. I want you. You are the only one I have ever wanted to. That's why I gave you that ring. That's why I was too stupid to look before I ran out into the road. I want you, only you."

Danny turned to him. "How can you love me, Flack? Look at the mess my life has become. Look at all the bad luck that is following me around. Why would you want that?"

Flack chuckled. "I see a man with a kind heart who rescued a dog, taking him off the street and giving him a home. I see a man who knew that even though it looked bad he continued to do his job. You're stubborn and that is a great trait to have in your line of work. You refuse to give up when the going gets tough." He took hold of Danny's hand. "Sure, you haven't exactly been in control but you never once killed anyone or let your problems get the best of you. Not completely anyway."

He got up, putting distance between them. "I can't love you."

"Why not?" Flack asked, remaining on the bed. He didn't want to crowd Danny. if he wanted space than he'd get it. But he was going to press the issue with Danny's fear of love. He had to know why that fear was there, what they couldn't just fall into each other and stay that way forever. "You can tell me anything, Danny. I won't think less of you."

Danny looked at him, reading the questions in his eyes. He also saw the love and the need to help. Flack had been there by his side through everything that had happened in the last few weeks. No matter how bad it got, Flack was there. He had given him the ring. The key to his apartment. He was doing everything he could to make it clear to Danny that he wasn't going anywhere. He sighed. It would be nice to let someone else in, after all these years. Aidan would want him to be happy. She wouldn't hate him for moving on, would she? No, that wasn't the type of person she was.

He walked over to the other side of the bed to make himself comfortable. Flack, reading his mind, lay back. Danny curled up beside him, resting his head on Flack's bare chest. Flack wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. "Tell me, Danny. Please."

"When I was seventeen I fell in love with a boy in my class. Everything was going great. It was like my life was finally falling into place. For the first time I was comfortable with who I was. And then Sonny found out," whispered Danny. "He was bitter even then and had tried for a while to get me to join his gang. But when he saw me with that boy, he flipped out. He beat me. He called me all these nasty names, threatening to tell my family what a sick pervert I was. He even spit on me before leaving me lying on the ground to die. I was saved from that fate when an off-duty officer came across me. I feared Sonny's wrath and allowed it to keep me away from everyone and anyone. I sealed off my heart, swearing that I would never give it away again. And it worked for a long time. Until Aidan stepped into the picture. We grew close and I found myself falling in love with her."

"I never knew that," whispered Flack, running his hand up and down Danny's back.

"She was strictly against office romances so nothing ever happened," he explained. "But then she was fired. We spent a lot of time together just hanging out, going to movies, and all that stuff. The night she was murdered was to be our first official date. But I got held up and ended up canceling it."

Flack didn't say anything. He just held Danny while he cried, remembering the painful past. If only he had known he wouldn't have pushed him so hard. He felt like kicking himself. But what was done was done and there was no taking it back. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "Danny, you know that Aidan wouldn't want you to be alone. She'd want you to be happy. She would want you to fall in love."

"I have," Danny replied as he traced little circles on Flack's bare chest. "I'm just too afraid to love you completely. Too afraid that if I give you my heart you'll be taken away from me."

Flack held him tighter. "I'm not going anywhere, Danny. Even death couldn't stop me from being by your side and loving you. Nothing will ever keep me away from you. I love you."

In that moment something inside Danny changed. He kissed Flack, placing a hand over his heart and letting it travel over his bare chest. Flack lost himself in the kiss. It was like no kiss they had ever shared before. This kiss was full of love, of understanding and complete trust. He would always remember their first kiss, but this kiss was important too. It marked the really beginning of something that was bound to be grand. He drew Danny closer, never wanting to let him go. Never wanting to be without him. The light from the bedside lamp flashed on the matching rings they both wore on their left hands. It had all started because of a ring. A small piece of metal worked into the shape of a circle. A symbol of love.


	24. Epilogue

**Title: **Isn't Someone Missing Me?

**Disclaimer: **Angst, violence, slash, and language.

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**Epilogue**

It was only a week later that Danny moved into Flack's apartment, leaving behind his old place to start a new life. When Christmas rolled around they invited their friends over for a party. That was the night that Hawkes proposed to Lindsay, who accepted, and the night that Mac and Stella shared their first kiss. Sid proposed a beautiful toast to friendship and love.

The city reconsidered its desire to have Danny fired from his job. They stated that any man willing to risk his life to save another deserved a second chance. Danny was allowed to keep his job, as long as he received counseling to help with his problems. Flack had to drag him to his first appointment and every one thereafter.

On New Year's Eve a prison guard found Sonny Sassone dead in his cell. No apparent cause for his death was ever found. Not that anyone in the lab really cared. Danny's gun was recovered in the apartment of Dante along with a note. It stated that he had killed Giuseppe DeMario when he found that Giuseppe was targeting Danny. Dante had changed his life and regretted his past. He didn't want to see Danny's life thrown away. He committed suicide by jumping out the fifth story window of his apartment.

They never did find the murderer of the vet. The file was placed on a shelf along with other cold case files. Danny and Flack would leave flowers on her grave when they went to visit Aidan. Widget eventually got it through his head that he was safe and home for good. The CSI and the detective took to spoiling him, lavishing him with love when they weren't busily wrapped up in each other.

From that day forward no one ever saw Danny or Flack without a silver ring on their left ring finger.

**_Author Note: Keep your eyes open for my next CSI NY story!_**


End file.
